


The Chalice

by StarlightBooks609



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types, Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crossover, Deep Magic (Narnia), Family, Gen, time travel sorta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:27:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28092393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlightBooks609/pseuds/StarlightBooks609
Summary: The wooden chalice blazed a deep gold, blinding students with its brilliance. The rumble of a Lion's roar echoed in the air. "Awake King of Narnia! There is much to be done!" Snap! Edmund's eyes flew open to see a marble floor rush to meet him... "Though," Dumbledore gave a dry chuckle, "it is the Quad-wizard Tournament now." No one else laughed.
Relationships: Edmund Pevensie & Lucy Pevensie & Peter Pevensie & Susan Pevensie
Comments: 12
Kudos: 68





	1. Flames of Golden Fire

**Author's Note:**

> I’m super excited to post this chapter! I’ve had this idea for months, and have been slowly fleshing out the world and story. Enjoy the story. (It's also crossposted on ffnet, if anyone's interested)

**October 31, 1994 - Great Hall, Hogwarts**

* * *

The wooden chalice blazed a deep gold, blinding students with its brilliance. The rumble of a Lion’s roar echoed in the air.

“Awake King of Narnia! There is much to be done!”

Snap!

Edmund’s eyes flew open to see a marble floor rush to meet him. Glimpses of young children lit by candle light flew past him. Lithe as a cat Edmund twisted to land on his feet rolling to reduce impact, his coat swirling around him as he came up tall with dark emerald eyes flashing proudly.

Stunned awe greeted his arrival as the startled yelps faded into silence. Smirking, glee flashed in calculating green eyes as he scanned the crowd. He was in the middle of a great stone hall, not unlike his own beloved Cair Paravel. Quickly he ticked off the exits and entrances and saw the four tables crowded with youths, oddly dressed ones at that, while a table of adults sat up on a dias behind a wooden chalice. Upon seeing the archaic architecture and robe-clad figures, Edmund decided a little fun was in order.

“Arte thou the foolish ones who summoned me, a creature of Deep Magic, against his will?”

His voice, deep and commandingly regal, washed over the hall. Surprise flickered in the adults’ eyes, though one of them, scarred and misshapen, twitched as if Edmund was expected yet not, and disappointment flickered in his one brown eye. 

_Found him, he’s the summoner._ An almost feral grin flashed across Edmund’s pale face before he quickly replaced it with a mask of polite indignation.

“Harry Potter.”

It was the old man clad in an eyesmarting magenta robe, who spoke from a wizened face framed by silver locks.

Yes, his dark head inclined slightly as Edmund replied. “A forgotten title, not oft used yet for long ago.” Gasps rippled through the air of the hall. Edmund could hear snatches of their whispering.

“Blimey! You think it’s really him?”

“- compete even though he’s not -”

“I don’t believe it. Must be that old fart Dumble-”

Edmund silenced them in an instant. “Now, as thou already know a title of mine, tis only common courtesy to require one of thine. Thy name, good sir?” It was a command from one used to respect.

The old man spoke again, his periwinkle eyes grave. “Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts school for Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

Edmund’s hand twitched to his left hip and a barely discernible glimpse of fear and shame flashed in his eyes. _Oh, Aslan protect me!_ Edmund knew that not all magic was bad, the fallen star magician he met during the voyage on the Dawn Treader a prime example, but the word witch evoked his worst memories. 

“Besides me as distinguished guests are Madame Maxine and Professor Karkaroff, Headmistress and Headmaster of Beaubatons and Durmstrang respectively.”

“Well meet kind sir and lady. By thy leave Headmaster Dumbledore, enlighten thy audience as to thy purpose in using an object of Deep Magic to summon a King of Narnia?”

Even more muttering followed this pronouncement. Edmund maintained a neutral tone and blank face as he spoke, gesturing to the wooden chalice that barely glittered with sapphire blue flames.

“I believe Mister Potter that this a conversation best held in private. If you would follow me, the Heads and I will gladly answer your questions as well as ask our own.” He turned to the lady- witch Edmund corrected himself, besides him in tartan green robes. “Professor McGonagall, please see the students return to their dormitories.” He turned to leave in a swirl of blue robes, “Oh please send the three champions up to my office as well.”

Dark brows knit slightly at the mention of champions, but combined with the multitude of whispers Edmund heard, he realized that some tournament was being held here. Just his luck to have crashed into the middle of it.

Edmund easily followed the group through the corridors of a medieval-esque castle. As they traversed the halls, Edmund felt the magic that permeated the air. He took a deep breath feeling the magic thrum through his veins. He hadn’t felt this alive since returning to Narnia aboard the _The Dawn Voyager._ Hogwarts was an ancient castle and wise, holding benevolent magic for protection and comfort, reminiscent of the Lion’s warm breath.

_I’ve returned to England, Aslan. Why have you called me here? How may I serve you, here, among my worst nightmares?_

* * *

Hermione was as surprised as anyone when the stranger fell through the enchanted ceiling after the mysterious entry of Harry Potter in the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

What truly surprised her was his appearance, granted he was gorgeous with well-defined jawline and brilliant green eyes, yet it was his clothes that shocked her. Clearly, he was magical -he dropped from the ceiling! - but he was dressed as a muggle. A very handsome and put together middle to upper class muggle with a long dark blue coat over a black sweater and a silver scarf, finished with tousled black hair and wire rimmed glasses.

Then his speech, regal and compelling, stunned her. _Who was this man? Surely not Harry Potter?_ She felt an absurd need to head to the library and research this development. _Deep Magic? She had never heard of the thing. Narnia? It was on no map she knew, though granted she wasn’t well versed in geography._ She heard her fellow Ravenclaws discussing the event as they hiked up to their tower dormitory. Wild and ridiculous theories flew through the air, though one stuck with Hermione as she readied herself for bed.

_‘How very odd,’ Luna Lovegood had said, ‘He has no nargles to speak of.’_

Yes, Hermione was a very surprised witch. Especially, when a few days later she met the mysterious muggle face to face in the library.

* * *

**October 31 st, 1994 - Headmaster’s Office**

Headmaster Dumbledore’s office was slightly surprising to Edmund. It was filled to the brim with silver instruments that twirled and spun, emitted swirls of brightly colored smoke, and in one odd case, whistled like a teapot. Recalling his training under the fallen star, Edmund could guess many of the functions of the instruments but that only served to fuel his interest in this strange place he had landed in.

The wizard Albus Dumbledore was confused, an unfamiliar sensation and one he quite disliked. _How had Harry’s name appeared in the Goblet? The Wizarding World had searched for years once they realized that the boy-who-lived was missing_. And now the boy was here, but quite unlike anything Dumbledore excepted. Blue eyes gazed piercingly at the raven-haired boy as Harry wandered around the office, displaying a cursory interest in the magical instrument. Dumbledore was astounded as Harry bowed to Fawkes and murmured a greeting.

After the three champions arrived, looking deciding confused at the sudden summoning, Dumbledore started the meeting.

“There has been an unprecedented incident tonight where another name appeared from the Goblet of Fire.”

“How iz zis possible Dumbl’dore? Your age line zould be impazzible.” Madame Maxine made her ire known. Professor Karkaroff jumped in, shouting angrily, “This is a conspiracy by Hogwarts! We all know that Harry Potter is British, they want two champions!”

“Outrageous!” Professor McGonagall cried, “Harry Potter has never set foot in Hogwarts til this very night. There is reason for him to represent Hogwarts in the tournament.” This devolved into a shouting match between the foreign heads of school as well as Professor McGonagall. Edmund found it all very improper for figures of authority. Instead he found his eyes resting on the other champions, assessing them. If this tournament was anything like he anticipated then it was wise to know his opponents. He judged them to be about two years younger than him, about seventeen, but there the similarities ended. One was an almost ethereally beautiful girl, with long blonde hair and blue eyes. She was slight of build but tall. The young men besides her were leaning in such a way as to shield the blonde from any attack. One was a stocky youth with dark brows drawn in a frown over glowering dark eyes. The second youth was slimmer and sported a head of chestnut hair, face relaxed and smiling openly. A sudden statement from a wane grey-haired man drew his attention from his fellow champions.

“But he must compete. According to the magically binding contract any name which emerges from the Goblet must compete or lose their magic.”

_Lose his magic?_ Edmund never thought that he had magic, though now that he thought about it the odd little things that happened to him over the years began to make sense. Deciding the time was right, he stepped forward authoritatively, like a King before his throne.

“Since my participation has been decided Headmasters and Headmistress, my question regarding the object of Deep Magic still stands for an answer.”

“Yes, I promised you an answer didn’t I?” Dumbledore sighed, “Unfortunately my dear boy I am unsure why you describe the Goblet of Fire as Deep Magic, but this chalice descends from ancient times even before Merlin. The contracts it contains are unequivocally binding and if the oath is broken, a price is taken.” Even the other adults were listening attentively to Dumbledore’s explanation.

“The chalice has been passed down family by family before the British Ministry of Magic claimed ownership, in order to preserve and protect this artifact. As to why it was used today, the best three magical institutes of Europe have come together to create international bonds through Tri-Wizard Tournament. Though,” Dumbledore gave a dry chuckle, “it is the Quad-wizard Tournament now.” No one else laughed.

“The collective three Ministries decided upon an objective judge, which so brings us to the Goblet of Fire.”

Edmund nodded his head at the explanation, “Understandable. Just and fair, as is all Deep Magic.”

“Now, Mister Potter, I believe I have a question for you.” Edmund was unsurprised to see all the occupants of the room turn to him; he face remained neutral and impassive, as if attention was a natural part of his life. Which as a King of Narnia, it was.

“Who are you? You mentioned other titles. I confess I’m quite curious as to what they are and how someone as young as you could have them.” 

Edmund stood tall and regal. “I am King Edmund the Just, Duke of the Lantern Waste, Count of the Western March, Knight of the Noble Order of the Table and Harry Potter.” As he spoke his titles, it seemed as if Edmund grew in years and nobility, infusing his audience with the sense that he truly was a king.

* * *

**October 31 st, 1994 – Spare room, Gryffindor Tower**

Sighing, Edmund lay on the red covers of his newly appointed canopy bed. Oh, how much he missed his siblings at this moment. His smiled as he imagined their reactions to Hogwarts and its magic. Lucy would have been already been bouncing around the walls, searching the corridors and badgering the students about their studies. Moreover, through it all she would be charming the magical populace left and right with her innocence and cheer. Peter, reckless and headstrong Peter, would be conversing with the paintings, discovering all he could about the culture and its more _dangerous_ aspects. He was always protecting them, Edmund thought fondly.

Susan. A brief pain flickered in his chest at the thought of his lost sister. Tears slipped from closed lids and wet his cheeks. They would meet again, that he was certain of. Not in this world, but definitely in the next. 

King Edmund of Narnia turned in his sleep, mulling over the mysteries of Hogwarts and magic, before his dreams became memories.


	2. Falling Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edmund faces the past and the experiences that shaped the King he is.

The memories flowed through Edmund's dreams unbidden, but not entirely unwelcome. Visions unremembered crept into his mind, given by the grace of the Lion for understanding.

* * *

"I'm…I'm adopted?" The boy's voice filled with confusion and disbelief.

"Yes, Edmund, we found you one night on our doorstep the first of November, wrapped in a blanket with a letter. Here," Helen Pevensie reached into her purse and pulled out an old stiff cream-colored envelope emblazoned with archaic green lettering, _Mister and Mistress Arthur F. Pevensie_.

"We never threw it away, a note on the side asked your father and I to give it to you when we thought you were old enough, for it would explain many things. And well," here she paused, wrapping her son in a hug, "this might be the last I see of you until the war is over. But no matter what you find in this letter, never, ever forget that you _are_ family and we love you."

She pulled away, "Now hurry onto the train, take care of your brothers and sisters for me."

As the grey train packed full of children ran its course into the countryside, Helen waved desperately until it was little more than a speck on the horizon. "Live well my children, and have faith."

* * *

Edmund stared stonily out the train window, brilliant emerald green eyes unseeing the countryside race by.

_By God, adopted? He wasn't Edmund Pevensie then, he was someone else._ The question remained though, who?

A little hesitant, the boy pulled out the heavy cream-colored envelope. Carefully he removed a stiff parchment. The date was smudged illegibly at the top of the letter in black ink, while the rest seemed in fairly legible condition.

_November 1st 19-_

_To a Mister Arthur Frank Pevensie and Mistress Helen Frank nee Evans Pevensie,_

_Young Harry James Potter was orphaned quite recently and I find that the only hope for the boy lies in giving him to a qualified family, in which I refer to you. To adequately raise young Harry an understanding of his background will suffice. Most unfortunately, a bloodline supremacist, who targeted young Harry for unknown reasons, murdered his young parents James and Lily Potter in cold blood. Based on previous altercations with the murderer I advise you, if you so choose to take young Harry in, to protect him in anyway possible. Perhaps a name change is advisable?_

_Additionally, young Harry is quite the unique individual, I warn you in advance about any unusual happenings around the boy. He will learn of his heritage in due time. It would undoubtedly put pressure on the boy to learn of it in his early stages of life._

_Sincerely,_

_A-_

It frustrated Edmund to no end that the name at the bottom was also smudged beyond recognition other than a single letter A. But there was a name.

Harry James Potter. Edmund rolled the name around in his mouth. It felt heavy and strange, like lead. He jumped as Lucy plopped herself down next to him on the train seat.

"Hello Ed, what are you looking at?" He hurriedly stuffed the parchment and letter into his coat pocket.

"Never you mind, it's none of your business." Lucy huffed, but acquiesced to forget and proceeded to pester Peter to tell her a story, leaving Edmund to brood in silence.

The raven-haired boy suddenly felt estranged from his siblings. They weren't even his siblings anymore. It seemed to him that he always felt a bit like an outsider. Did blood truly matter in relationships? He rubbed at his scarred forehead absently, trying to soothe the burgeoning ache.

* * *

Soft paws padded silently across the immaculate lawn of number 4 Privet Dr. The owner of those paws carried on to the very steps of the door, where they stopped just shy of a little tartan bundle sporting a mop of messy black curls that barely hid a lightning scar.

"Hello dear one, while you will not remember me by the time you awake, know that I will always be with you." The voice was soft and deep, providing comfort and warmth, like a spring breeze.

"Your mother, dear one, gave her life for you. She called with her last breathe on the One she had forsaken long ago. She asked and I have answered." The very stars seemed to shimmer and shine brighter as the voice spoke.

"Rest well little one, for you will be among family." And the warm breath of Aslan embraced the little bundle, which disappeared. It appeared with a soft gust of wind on a different doorstep in a different time. In the folds of the bundle, a letter, in off-white cream parchment, changed slightly. It no longer read, _Mr. and Mrs. V. Dursley,_ but instead stated in curly green lettering, _Mister and Mistress Arthur F. Pevensie._

* * *

Edmund was in a conundrum. On one hand Her Majesty, draped in white furs and crowned with everlasting icicles, who promised him knowledge of his birth parents, yet on the other lay revealing his sibling's whereabouts, which Mr. Beaver seemed to adamantly attempt to conceal. Birth family or the family he grew up with?

_No,_ they were not his family. Just look at how Peter bossed him around and Susan scolded him on the march towards Mr. and Mrs. Beaver's dam. _Horrible, that was not family._

The young boy of eleven ignored the little whispering deep in his mind that told him that he had provoked Peter and deserved Susan's words. Silently he slipped out the door and looked for the tall mountains which hid Her Majesty's house.

_Besides, she cannot be as bad as Mr. Beaver seems to believe. She is the Queen for heaven's sake! A Queen_ must _treat her subjects well._

With those thoughts in mind, Edmund adjusted his glasses and proceeded to slough through the snow to Her Majesty's house. He quickly regretted the loss of his fur coat, but was in too far now to turn back.

* * *

Twisting and turning, restful sleep seemed far from the young king. The cold outside the tower window seemed to seep into his bones as he remembered his worst, and best, memories.

* * *

The first step from the warmth of the wardrobe onto the cold crinkling of snow jarred Edmund. He quickly sucked in a chilly breath, coughing as the cold seared his lungs. He had followed Lucy through the wardrobe. It was completely unlike anything he had ever experienced. The air was crisp and clean, but heavy. Full of some intangible substance, that he would later learn to be magic. Nevertheless, as he stepped out from the coniferous trees Edmund felt more alive than ever and paradoxically, at home.

High pitched sleigh bells caught his attention, followed by the sharp crack of a whip.

* * *

Green grass waved in the wind, dotted with spring flowers of yellow and pink. Edmund stood quietly in the back of the crowd a little apart from his siblings. There were many talking beasts, great cats, beavers, foxes, as well as Red Dwarfs, centaurs, and dryads, to name a few. All were clad in bright shining armor and they clamored with joy for Aslan was here.

The crowd was too thick and boisterous to allow the short eleven-year-old a view, nor did Edmund want to see Aslan. The more he heard about the great lion the more shame and guilt bubbled in the pit of his stomach.

The sudden quiet unnerved Edmund and he saw all creatures great and small part like the red sea and bow to the one moving in their midst. Together the four siblings knelt before the Lion.

"Rise Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve." The voice was rich and deep, imparting a sense of peace and comfort.

"Are you really Aslan?" Lucy asked, her bright and cheerful voice slightly subdued.

"Yes, child I am. You may touch my mane if you wish." She did so, her fingers tangling in the soft fur.

"Oh, my! It's so soft…and warm." Edmund smiled fondly, trust Lucy to jump right in. One by one, the older Pevensie children stroked Aslan's rich golden fur.

"I…I feel as if I've met you before…" Edmund's voice was low and quiet, face muffled in Aslan's fur.

"Indeed you have, dear one. For I was the one who placed you in the path of your family," The low rumble replied.

"Oh, Alsan, could they, my family, _ever_ forgive me for my betrayal?" Green eyes looked towards the ground. "Could you?"

"Come, dear one, walk with me."

Together they walked among the flowers; no one knew what was said between them. Only that Edmund returned quiet still, but determination and love flickered in his eyes when he returned.

* * *

A lone boy, with dark messy hair that barely hid a lightning scar, curled miserably in the dark cell, the frigid air seeping into his bones. "She offered me a chance to see my original parents, the ones I was born to, the ones who…who died."

"Yes, she tempts us with our deepest desires, but she only offers false promises," a voice replied. If anything the boy wrapped himself tighter in a ball.

"I dare say, I realize that now, how wrong I was. It never mattered who my birth parents were, finding out my birth name doesn't change that fact that I already had a family. I was just too blind and angry to see it."

Images of laughing with Lucy, reading with Susan, and wrestling with Peter, and drinking tea as a whole family flashed through his mind.

The knowledge that he wasn't related to his siblings had hit Edmund hard. He pushed them away at the Professor's manor, becoming standoffish and prone to anger. The boy laughed bitterly, "They are a much better family than I ever was. Even as I cut them with my words and actions they still believed in me. But now…" His young voice trailed off tears slipping past his lips.

The voice was kind and gentle, with a raspy overtone. "What will you do now?"

"Help them o'course. Even if they never forgive me for my betrayal, I will always stand by my family, now that I know who they are."

A shaky hand reached through the bars clasping Edmund on the shoulder. "May Aslan bless you, Son of Adam."

"Aslan, Mr. Tumnus? Who is Aslan?"

"The True King of Narnia. The Son of the Emperor-Beyond-The-Sea."

Before the faun could continue, the door to the jail slammed open. A dwarf strode into the room sneering at its occupants.

"Her Majesty would like a word with ye, faun. Sometin 'bout treachery."

"Wait!" Edmund called rushing to the bars, ignoring the jerk of his shackles biting into his skin, "He didn't do anything wrong!" The door to the jail slammed shut, seemingly by a gust of wind.

The dwarf turned and spat at the boy, "Ye'll have yer turn _boy,_ sure 'nough _._ " He gave a sinister cackling laugh before turning to Mr. Tumnus. In a blink of an eye, the dwarf grabbed the faun's chains and dragged him, whimpering in pain, out the door. Leaving the raven-haired boy to stare desolately at the empty cell next to him, green eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

* * *

Battle was not what Edmund expected. Confusion and chaos reigned as the two armies clashed together. Stationed on the mountainside with Peter, Edmund had a clear view of the battle.

"Gryphons aid the right flank! Infantry advance!"

Smoothly and decisively, Peter directed Aslan's red and gold clad army. It would seem those days and nights strategizing with Aslan on the walk to Beruna, prepared Peter well. Then all hell broke loose as the White Witch began turning creatures to stone left and right.

'No!' Edmund spun between two hags, slashing them through the legs. He couldn't let the army collapse into stone statues. Determination filled him from the bottom of his toes to the top of his lungs; he would confront the Witch.

Nothing could stop him now. Enemies fell left and right as the raven-haired boy fought his way towards the center of the battle. A shadow loomed over him and Edmund saw the gray-skinned ogre stomp towards him. It was easily six feet tall, buff and misshapen, clad in leather and fur skins held together by iron chains. Edmund ducked under the first swing of its club, slashing at its foot. Giving a grunt of pain it swayed to the side long enough for the boy to spear it through the heart. Unfortunately, while Edmund was distracted two more ogres arrived. At the sight of their downed companion they roared, spittle flying from overly large yellow and brown stained teeth.

Quickly he parried their blows, arms straining under the force. Slashing at one, he dodged between them, turning to spear one ogre in the back. Unfortunately, his sword slipped right between two links of the chain link belt it wore, trapping the blade. Growling the other, and bigger, ogre slammed Edmund to the side. He gasped his ribs stinging, though luckily his chainmail managed to divert most of the force. He lay winded on the grass, heaving mightily.

A shadow fell on him, and Edmund glanced up at the ogre's beady eyes glaring down on him as it raised its club. Desperately rolling to the side, Edmund spotted his sword stuck in the ogre's back only a few feet away. A few feet too many.

Thump! A huge dirty barefoot slammed into Edmund's chest, pinning him to the ground. Sword! Edmund needed his sword, now! He stretched out his hand, but the shining sword remained just out of reach. Something fizzled in his stomach, and then the sword shifted slightly, flying into Edmund's hand. Chalking the bizarreness upto adrenaline, Edmund trust upwards and to the side, pushing the ogre off him in a boost of strength.

"Hah, hah," He panted harshly, swiping one hand against his brow. Miraculously his glasses remained on his face, though bent and scuffed.

Edmund straightened and leapt for the White Witch, who had just turned a faun to stone. With one slash Edmund split her wand in half. The two ends sparked blue before bursting into snowflakes. The White Witch screamed in rage rushing at Edmund.

"How dare you! You insolent worm!"

Even without her wand, the Witch was powerful. She wielded her jagged bronze knife in deadly patterns. Edmund's brief instruction on swordplay was woefully incompetent comparatively. Swoosh! The edge swung inches above his head ruffling his hair. Edmund parried in panic, but it was a feint and the Witch swept his feet from under him. She laughed maniacally, "Look at you now! The traitor that fool cat saved! It seems I still get to skewer you."

She swung, her knife lodging itself in his chest. The battle went quiet, darkness edged into his vision. Dimly Edmund saw Peter, _his_ _brother_ , smash into the White Witch. Peter's brown eyes blazed wildly with fury and determination.

Then darkness fell and Edmund knew no more.

* * *

**November 1** **st** **, 1994 – Spare room, Gryffindor Tower**

Edmund woke with a startled gasp. He rubbed the old scar on his chest, which ached slightly. A reminder of his past treachery and his redemption. Aslan had redeemed him, reminded him who his family was, and that was something Edmund would never forget. Not for all the magic in the world.

Speaking of magic, Edmund curiously looked at some of the textbooks Headmaster Dumbledore had let him borrow. It seemed that since he knew nothing about Britain's magic he would attend classes here at Hogwarts.

Based on the angle of the morning sun drifting through the window, Edmund judged it to be around eight in the morning. Sighing he got out of bed and completed his morning rituals. It surprised him slightly that all the essentials were neatly lined up in the washroom. He gave a mental shrug, and wondered if there were invisible servants.

Redressing in his muggle clothes, Edmund was thankful they were washed in the night. He was not wearing robes, thank you very much. Tunics and overcoats, fine, welcomed even, but dresses? No, definitely not. Glancing at the mirror, he ran a hand through his unruly hair and deemed himself ready. He smirked slightly, _show time_. The witches and wizards wouldn't know what they bargained for when they summoned a King of Narnia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I worried that this chapter would be confusing, since it's Edmund's/Harry's memories as dreams so they aren't in chronological order so I wanted to date them so the timeline stayed sensible. C'est la vie, though. Here's the dates of the memories in order they appear.
> 
> 1940 – Finchley, England Train Station
> 
> 1981, November 1st - Surrey, Little Whinging, Number 4 Privet Dr.
> 
> Year 100 of Queen Jadis' reign - Beaver's Dam
> 
> Year 100 of Queen Jadis' Reign - Aslan's How
> 
> Year 100 of Queen Jadis' Reign - The Lamppost
> 
> Year 100 of Queen Jadis' reign - The Dungeons
> 
> Year 100 of Queen Jadis' reign - Battle of Beruna
> 
> Just a shout out to all you lovely people who viewed, commented, and gave kudos to my story. It's super encouraging and uplifting, so thanks! Hope you all liked this chapter as well.


	3. Calm before the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes all you can do it wait and plan for the right opportunity.

**November 7th, 1994 - Hogwarts**

It had been a week since Edmund fell through the starry ceiling of the Great Hall. In that time he had enjoyed learning the theoretical aspects of wizarding magic. Since he didn't have a wand Edmund was restricted to reading the textbooks for his classes. On the upside, there was no need to proceed slowly mastering each practical spell so Edmund was fairly flying through the readings. Already he had finished the first year textbooks.

It was just before breakfast that day and Edmund greatly enjoyed his stroll through the tapestry and torch lit corridors, admiring the moving paintings. The castle was ancient, preserving centuries of magic in her core, the medieval arches and worn flagstone attesting to that fact. Listening to the whispering cropping up in his wake Edmund gathered that the school gossip mill couldn't quite figure him out. There were several theories floating around, suggesting him to be an imposter on Dumbledore's pay or that Harry was a squib from a very prominent muggle royalty, which was why he wasn't at Hogwarts before.

Grinning slightly at their absurd notions, Edmund sat down at the table underneath the golden lion banner. It reminded him of Aslan, only a little less dimensional. He turned to comment to Lucy only to remember she wasn't there. A sharp sense of loss hit Edmund hard enough for him to gasp slightly.

Fortunately screeches and hoots filled the air drowning out any conversation as hundreds of owls swooped down from the rafters.

"Finally! Mail's here," grumbled a lanky redhead, pausing from shoveling obscene amounts of potatoes into his mouth.

Edmund asked the dark-skinned Angelina, he believed her name was, for a copy of the wizarding newspaper. No wonder they were all dunderheads, it seemed as if their main source of information was a gossip rag. A momentary rage filled him when he read the slanderous article about him, claiming 'Harry Potter' to be hallucinogenic and prone to flashy displays. The date printed at the bottom of the scathing article caught his attention.

"Wait a minute...what year is it?"

"1994. Why?" It was another ginger, only slightly younger than the champions, who answered Edmund.

"1994?! By the Mane, I'm over fifty years old!" Edmund exclaimed in wonder.

"How does that even make sense?" The same redhead wondered exchanging a confused glance with the identical ginger next to him. Edmund assumed they were the Weasley twins he kept hearing about.

"Well," Edmund began, wondering how much to reveal, "It all started with walking through a wardrobe." By this time almost all the Gryffindors around him were listening with rapt attention, he even swore he head the click of a camera.

"Turns out it was a portal to a land called Narnia. My siblings and I lived there for fifteen years before we stumbled back through the wardrobe. Imagine our surprise when not even a minute had passed in England!" Edmund explained his time in Narnia and jolly old England quickly and succinctly. "I had just passed my nineteenth birthday for the second time when I fell through the ceiling a week ago."

"What a conundrum, technically-" the redhead's other half continued without missing a beat. "-you should be a fourteen year old, yet-"

"-you're in a nineteen year old body and-"

"-on top of that whole shenanigans-"

"-this is your second lifetime." They turned to each other with identical pouts and spoke in unison, "No wonder the age line accepted you!"

"Except," Edmund dryly pointed out, "I wasn't even in this time to cross the age line in the first place." This statement struck the twins for a moment.

"Blimey, Gred, he's right."

"That he is Forge, we must be slipping up in our old age."

"It must have been the beards." They spoke in unison, firmly nodding their heads in agreement. The other listeners burst into laughter at the twin's ridiculousness. Edmund only shook his head fondly, remembering Peter and Lucy's love of laughter.

Clearly not everyone believed his story but Edmund wasn't here to pound the truth into their skulls. Force was not always the way to go. He would show them the truth at the first task, once he figured out what the task was.

* * *

**November 10th 1994 - Hogwarts Library**

Mad-eye Moody thumped by the library entrance, his clawed foot loud on the stone floors. Edmund happened to be looking up and caught a glimpse of the craggy and scarred man. _Now what to do about the summoner?_ There were many different routes Edmund could take, from direct confrontation to a set up. It all depended on motivation though. _Why was Harry Potter summoned to this tournament, and for what purpose?_

It was for that reason the raven-haired king sat in the library researching. Knowledge was a weapon, and Edmund intended to use it wisely and fairly

* * *

Hermione stared. She couldn't help it, curiosity pulled at her relentlessly. There was Harry Potter -or was it King Edmund?- sitting at the next table over in the library, his head buried in an ancient runes tome.

Gathering her gumption, what little she had of it, she moved over to him. He looked up at her approach, dark emerald green eyes piercing.

"Hello," she started, nervously tugging on a slip of her curly locks, "My name's Hermione Granger." Here she stopped to take a breath before pushing on, "Would it be alright if I sat here? I saw your text and while it's a good one, though I recommend a slightly more updated version. I could help with the runes themselves, if you have any questions. I've taken all the classes an-" she cut off her rambling blushing.

Edmund just smiled, rising from his seat to pull out the chair next to him. "A pleasure Miss Granger. I am Edmund Pevensie and your assistance with rune work would be much appreciated."

"Pevensie? Not Potter?" He grimaced slightly.

"For the past nineteen years I've gone by Pevensie, it's a bit of a habit now. Also, the connotations of the boy-who-lived are still quite new to me."

"Really? If it were me I'd have read everything about it before coming here."

"I didn't really have a choice in the matter Miss Granger." The words stung Hermione a bit, and she cursed herself, there she went again, sticking her foot in her mouth. Edmund continued speaking, "If you wouldn't mind, since it seems you have quite the expertise, could you point me to a few books? Particularly about the recent Wizarding War?"

Hermione bounced in her seat excitedly pulling a few tomes out of her book bag. "Of course! Here's a few. I highly recommend _Dark Lords of Britain_ the author is quite informative."

Edmund accepted them with quiet thanks before pulling open the first cover. Hermione quietly turned back to her own potions essay, cramming another couple of inches in her small precise handwriting onto the bottom of her overfilled parchment.

* * *

**November 23** **rd** **, 1994 - Gryffindor Spare Room**

The sunset was breathtaking. All orange and gold, with streams of pink and purple reflected by the clouds onto the glistening lake down below.

Edmund stared at the sight from the window seat of his room, wrapped in warm dark red woolen blanket.

_Tomorrow. Tomorrow was the day of the first task._ The nineteen-year old frowned, dark eyebrows pinched together over emerald eyes. He was nervous, nausea settling in his stomach. The task itself wasn't daunting, he and Hermione - bless that witch's research skills - had determined based on historical records that the first task involved a deadly magical creature of some kind. No, what he worried about was that he was alone. It was something that was almost unfamiliar to the young king.

For years, he had had his siblings to rely on, and now he could only rely on himself. This was different than a military campaign, there were no generals to seek counsel, or soldiers to advise. In a way, it freed Edmund from the heartbreak of counting casualties, but it added a different stress to his shoulders.

_Family._ Oh how he missed them. Lucy's laughter and bright smile, Peter's rough and affection touches, even Susan's nitpicking about proper manners. It showed that they cared, and Edmund worried that he failed to show that _he_ cared enough about them. He remembered their last day together as if it was yesterday.

* * *

**February 19th, 1949 - London, England**

The train wreck was unexpected, though it hurt far less than Edmund assumed it would. In fact it didn't hurt at all. One minute he was chatting with Peter and the Professor, while Lucy, Eustace and Jill played cards on the seat across from them -only Susan missing from their small party- the next, the loud crunch of buckling metal overtook them and a white light blinded them. Then he was aware that the uncomfortable train benches were replaced with a grassy field dotted with pink and yellow wildflowers.

"Lu, I don't suppose you heard that lion's roar just before that light appeared?" aforementioned blonde turned to look at her brother.

"Why yes, Ed, I do believe I did."

An older voice, Peter, broke in, "I dare say. You reckon this is Narnia then?"

"By golly so we are! But -" here Eustace's youthful tenor voice dipped a bit from its previous joy, "it feels slightly different this time around, more permanent."

"I'm sorry to say, but I believe we died in the train wreck just now." The professor's old creaky voice stunned them. "It's truly a shame for you young ones, never living out until your old age as I've done. It really is a blessing for me to return to Narnia."

Lucy undaunted, jumped for joy, blue eyes sparkling with laughter, "I always knew we would return to Narnia!"

"And right you were young one, your faith has saved you." The melodious voice awed and rejuvenated them, like a warm spring breeze. They turned as one to face the large golden lion.

"Aslan!" Lucy anh Jill threw themselves onto the Lion clutching his soft mane in their small hands.

"Well met, young ones," The Lion purred in response, "Come let us go further up and father in."

They followed the golden Lion instantly, excitement glittering in all their faces. They followed the stream of Narnias who rushed across the green hills with childlike abandon. In the distance the huge figure of a giant stood tall, a horn still on his lips, blowing a clear tone across the land.

Eventually they came to a doorway. Just a simple wooden frame made from branches strapped together, beautiful in its simplicity. Beyond the door, though, stood a magnificent landscape, gorgeous gemlike colors painting the scenery within. Idyllic clouds floated past in the pure blue sky.

"That is true Narnia, my country." Aslan spoke softly, yet the words resonated deeply in their hearts.

Edmund turned and noticed the hills behind him slowly fade to grey. "This land is over, its time done." The Lion turned to face them, "It is your choice to go through."

Surprisingly, the Professor went first. He practically scampered over to the door, calling over his shoulder "I haven't been this excited in ages!"

Laughter followed the merry old professor as Jill and Eustace quickly ran through the doorway as well. Edmund fondly smiled at Eustace's eagerness, his cousin had grown tremendously over the years from a moody dragon into a steadfast companion. The three Pevensie children glanced at each other, walking forward as one.

"There is another door as well, Edmund Harry Potter Pevensie."

And suddenly there was another doorway, sitting next to the one already there. It was fashioned from old grey cracked marble. An emblem hung over the doorway of a crest divided in quadrants, a gold and red lion, a bronze and blue raven, a black and yellow badger, and a silver and green snake.

"Aslan…" Edmund began, but stopped unsure of what to say.

"This is a doorway to your past. The one I took you from."

"The one without my family."

"Yes." Silence stretched for a moment, "Trouble brews in that time and aid must be given. The only question is whether it is you, Harry Potter King of Narnia, who is the one that gives it."

Edmund found himself looking straight into Aslan's blazing brown eyes. He found warmth and compassion, but also a challenge. Behind his wire rim glasses, green eyes glanced towards Peter and Lucy, who stood respectful silently nearby. Peter, light brown eyes calm, put a hand on his shoulder, "Whatever you decide, we will be with you." Lucy quickly hugged her brother tightly, snuggling into his chest, "Always."

Smiling they walked through the wooden doorway, passing into True Narnia. Edmund saw their forms shimmer before he saw them return to the King and Queen of Narnia they always were. His eyes returned to the two doorways.

He had a choice. Follow his siblings to what amounted to the afterlife with Aslan. Or help those in need in an unfamiliar place. The call of family tore Edmund in two, but he felt deep in his bones Aslan's call. Resolutely he turned towards the stone door.

"I will go as you lead me."

"Very well, let your heart guide you."

Edmund stepped across the threshold and fell into a wall of golden flames.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for all those who made it this far through my story! This was mostly an interlude until the battles of the tournament.


	4. Dragons Ahoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There be dragons here!

**November 24th, 1994 - Hogwarts Grounds**

When the feisty creature crawled out of the bag onto his hand, spewing smoke and coughing sparks, Edmund nearly laughed with delight. Fleur, the French champion, saw his expression and tilted her white blonde head charmingly, accentuating her Veela allura. Edmund wasn't concerned, he'd met a myriad of dryads and naiads much prettier than she.

"Why iz you laughin' 'Arry Potter?"

Green eyes stared confidently at the witch, "Dragons are easy to handle, my cousin turned into one once, a hell of a time to turn him back. I was more anxious that it would be giants, _they_ are a pain to deal with, especially by one's self."

An uncomfortable silence greeted these words as the other three champions and officials could only stare in disbelief at the young man. Edmund smirked slightly, basking in their underestimation of him. He watched and listened as one by one the students left to face their dragons. According to the cries of cheers of the crowd, it seemed that the other champions had done passably well with only minor injuries.

The fourth and last cannon boomed, heralding the last champion outside. He strode out of the billowing tent entrance, resplendent in silver chain mail. An excellent transfiguration gift from Hermione. Glancing down at the lifelike model of the dragon he was to face, Edmund recalled the last words of his siblings. _We will be with you...always._

_Let your heart guide you._ Emerald eyes closed as he called silently to the depths of his heart. "My dear brother Peter, please lend me your aid."

A buzzing, that he now recognized as magic, stirred in his stomach. Golden swirls formed in the air, manifesting into a tall blonde figure.

"Unbelievable magic! I've never seen the like!" Ludo Bagman's voice thundered around the arena, "By scott! There's two of him! How in the world... "

Indeed there were two figures in the arena. One strode tall, familiar dark hair waving slightly in the wind, glasses perched on his slim nose and a glittering rapier studded with rubies swung by his left hip. To the left of him strode an even taller individual. His entire outline shimmered gold and he seemed transparent, as if imaginary. Blonde hair and brown eyes gazed majestically over the rocky field, his broad sword by his side and a medieval shield emblazoned with a crimson lion slung on his back. Together one could see the similarities in their build and face structure; barring their colors one would assume they were twins of a sort. The taller blonde spoke with the brunette, eyes never leaving the battlefield.

"Dragons ahoy! At your command, _King_ Edmund." The deep tone was light and mischievous.

"Seriously _High King_ Peter? The only time you don't barge recklessly in? Does the dragon perchance frighten you?" A dazzling laugh, bright and merry, filled the air.

"Not at all brother dear. Considering the stage at hand tis only fitting for you to lead."

"Well then, shall we begin, brother of mine? Same as the Battle of Beruna, if you please." A look of exasperation crossed Peter's face.

"Really Ed? If I recall correctly, you almost died then during that maneuver."

"I guess you'll have to actually protect me this time." Edmund quipped with a small smile. Then as one, they charged towards the Hungarian Horntail. Peter in the fore, shield braced against attacks, Edmund directly behind shadowing his brother's every step. They seemed to merge into one person as they moved seamlessly.

Due to the sonorous charm on the arena, all heard their pre-battle conversation, which left many flabbergasted, most of all by the flippant reference to near death expirences. Watching the duo dance around the dragon swords flickering like starlight, many revised their opinions of the quiet and sly man known as Harry Potter. They moved together, man and gold apparition, striking the dragon with the sides of their blades. Ringing bell like sounds clashing and crashing through the air. Disoriented the dragon shuffled sideways flames shooting from her mouth, Peter barreled into the flames, redirecting them on his angled shield. Edmund swooped underneath her flailing tail to snag the golden egg, a huge paw slamming him at the last moment, which he deflected with the brunt of his rapier, sustaining little damage but flying across the arena. Swiftly he rolled protecting the egg and landed on his feet a ways away from Peter. Together they retreated, Peter covering with his shield the fire blasts from her mouth and Edmund directing their path, conscious of her limbs amid the rocky debris.

Once at a safe distance, the dragon handlers already soothing her, Edmund and Peter halted. They sheathed their swords and slowly they bowed their heads, "Forgive us great dragon for thy wounds. Our gratitude forevermore for thy challenge. May Aslan bless thy children." At faint roar cascaded through the air, and lo and behold the Hungarian Horntail stilled, before inclining her long majestic neck in return.

Edmund turned towards his brother, golden egg clasped to his side, green eyes glowing with triumph. "Thank you Peter."

"Anytime Edmund." He put a hand on his brother's chain-mail clad shoulder, light brown eyes piercing "Never forget that we are always with you. _All_ of us." And then his shimmering form flickered into a golden light which flew into Edmunds chest, right to his heart.

* * *

Rumors flew thick in the air.

"What do you suppose that magic was?"

"-looked so gallant! I'd believe he was a King-"

"Afterwards, the dragon, it seemed intelligent, but that's imposs-"

"-the sword! Where do you supp-"

Secluded in the hospital tent Edmund heard none of that as he endured Madam Pompfrey's fussiness with all the Kingly grace he could muster. The young man gently put a hand on his chest, feeling the sting of the cold metal armor. He had come. The protector of his family had come and fought with him. Emerald eyes glittered with happiness; it was almost too surreal to believe. Yet with Aslan, all things were possible.

"It's remarkable Mr. Potter! No severe wounds at all, only minor scrapes, bruises, and dust." The matron's surprised voice brought Edmund's reverie. He smiled up at her, "Does that mean I'm free to leave your wonderful care, Madam Pompfrey?"

"Why be off with you!" She smiled, eyes crinkling up with amusement, "Just don't let me see you again."

* * *

**November 24** **th** **, 1994 - Gryffindor Common Room**

Of course, there was a party in the common room. Edmund shuddered at his lack of foresight. Overly enthusiastic Gryfffindors who favored recklessness and bravery jumped at any chance to throw a celebration, whether or not the person whom they celebrated wished to be there. If only he had listened to Hermione. She had offered the Ravenclaw common room as a place where he could spend the night, clearly anticipating the rambunctious bunches' actions. Unthinkingly he had refused. Edmund grimaced at the memory.

The red and gold bespectacled common room rang with shouts and laughter as the red and gold clad students ran around spilling sparkling drops of butterbeer everywhere.

"Hey! Harry Potter! Congrats on first place!" A ditzy blonde screamed in his ear.

"Thank you!" Her shouted back, and her brown eyes sparkled with awe and joy. Her friend, a dark skinned girl, stepped closer into his space. "Would you open the egg?"

"Yes! Please, it would be super exciting!" Before he had a chance to refuse, it seemed that everyone had heard her request since they started chanting.

"Op-en. The. Egg! Op-en. The. Egg! Op-en. The. Egg!"

Edmund swept a chilling glare across the room, which quieted faster than a pin could drop. "If only to reduce the ridiculous amount of noise you produce, I'll open it." He swept his arms out, "Now stand back."

Holding the enormous golden egg, which glimmered orange and yellow in the flickering firelight, Edmund twisted the knob on top. Cracks appeared in the smooth surface and the egg split along those lines like a lotus flower blooming. Sound blasted out in an invisible wave. Edmund heard screams and shrieks of "Turn it off!" and "Close the bloody thing!"

Distantly he wondered what they were screaming about. He listened to the slightly melodious voices emanating from the cracked egg. Suddenly a body slammed into his, shocked he dropped the egg which was quickly snatched up. The person twisted the knob frantically. All noise stopped.

"What the bloody hell was that screeching?" Fred Weasley asked in the silence. George nodded as he handed Edmund back the egg.

"What screeching?" Edmund asked tilting his head in confusion, while an unreadable look crossed his face.

"You mean that you heard something else?"

"Yes. The question remains; why couldn't you?" With that, Edmund swept up the stairs to his solitary, a frown maring his features, pondering the magic that could capture the voices of mermaids far from the ocean.

* * *

**November 30** **th** **, 1994 - Gryffindor Spare Room**

Emerald green eyes glittered like gold behind wire rim frames as they stared at a messy array of sheets of parchment, clasped hands folded over his mouth in contemplation. Scribbled in black ink were the notes Edmund discovered about Harry Potter's role in the Wizarding world.

Harry Potter. Even now, the name rolled on his tongue like lead. The boy-who-lived and celebrity extraordinaire, famous for outlasting his parents on Halloween 1981. Such a heavy burden for a one year old child. If that wasn't enough, the Dark Lord Voldemort and his followers the Death Eaters obsession was problematic.

He rubbed his forehead feeling a headache forming, fingers carelessly running over the raised scar. The letter knew. It had claimed there was a terrorist after him, which was true, albeit a magical one, and that he had gifts, such as magic. The brunette had never doubted the letter's validity and this compilation of information only supported its words.

Back to the slew of parchment covering his desk. Edmund sighed loudly, there was only one conclusion he could form. Since the Goblet created a binding magical contract compelling the champion to compete and there was a high mortality rate…only a Death Eater would benefit from dropping his name in the goblet. That meant as the summoner was a Death Eater working for Voldemort. Which seemed preposterous. In his research Edmund had discovered that the ex-auror Alastor "Mad-eye" Moody had fought Voldemort and his minions, even landed the majority of them in prison. It was odd that such a purveyor of justice would turn and support the enemy.

Emerald eyes closed in thought, brows scrunched in contemplation. Blackmail was always an option or double-crossing, which he had encountered in his reign of Narnia. Yet he felt as if there was more to the story. That he was missing a crucial piece of the puzzle.

Deception. Concealment. How would the Wizarding world deal with espionage? Could magic change their appearances? The White Witch had turned herself into a block of stone during her reign and her henchman into a stump to avoid capture. Who was to say wizards didn't possess some similar ability?

Running a calloused hand through his black hair, Edmund removed his glasses, eyes cast in a determined glint. With a research direction there was no need to remain passive.

A jaw aching yawn interrupted his thoughts. It was late, almost morning, and he needed sleep. He only hoped that the nightmares filled with ice and stone would stay away for the remainder of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the nice comments on my previous chapters! Hoped everyone liked this one just as much! The next chapter will be posted tomorrow, muse willing. Don't forget to drop some comments ;)


	5. Winter Interlude

**December 1st 1994 - The Forbidden Forest**

"We shouldn't be here Edmund."

"Come now Hermione, where's your Gryffindor spirit?"

"I'm a Ravenclaw." She deadpanned, and her dark haired companion burst into laughter.

"Well, yes, but that doesn't define the entirety of who you are." He stopped walking through the snow-covered trees turning to face her, "You were, believe it or not, the first person to approach me with sincerity after my quite stunning arrival."

She gapped unflatteringly, flabbergasted at his words. "I...I was?"

"Of course, would I lie?" She had to admit that in the time she'd know the raven-haired King of Narnia he only spoke the truth.

"Now help me find those centaurs I've heard about." Barely concealed glee threaded through his voice. "I've just the prank if they are as stuffy as I knew them to be. By Jove, not to be mean!" He amended when he saw the thunderous look on Hermione's face. "Loyal to the grave, they are, but stuffy nonetheless. They deserve some fun spicing up life, what with Mars being bright tonight."

"What does Mars being bright have anything to do with this?"

"Well," Edmund explained holding a snow-laden branch aside for her to duck under, "Mars is the name of the Roman God of War. So, it is an omen of bloodshed and battle when the planet is not only visible, but quite eye-catching bright."

Hermione hummed in contemplation recalling her admittedly small knowledge of Greek mythology, following her companion out of the fringes and into the depths of the Forbidden Forest.

In the distance a herd of centaur stood peacefully gazing up at the night sky, each creature isolated just enough from his companions for a clear view. Hidden in the snow, beneath the shade of a gnarled old tree, Edmund pulled out a well-worn carved pipe and slowly put it to his lips.

A hauntingly slow lullaby floated into the clearing, surrounding the majestic beasts on all sides. They stiffened minutely but then relaxed. Hermione could see some of their heads and shoulders drooping even as she fought to keep her own sleepy eyes open.

He blew one last long note and threw a small bag. His aim held true and the bag landed squarely on a dun colored tail. The cloth burst open with a shower of rainbow colored sparkles. Slightly startled but still drowsy the centaur moved sluggishly and the sparkles trailed after like a rainbow. In quick succession, Edmund threw seven more sparkle bombs.

The entire herd woke up at the bombardment and began stomping around, high-pitched whinnies breaking the silence of the forest. Hermione stuffed a hand in her mouth the stifle her giggles. With the sparkles floating after their tails it seemed as if the centaurs were pooping rainbows.

Besides her, the nineteen-year-old brunet fell over in silent laughter, appearing more like a mischievous five-year old then a king. Quickly Hermione tugged her companion away from the clearing of quite angry centaurs. Once almost to the edge of the forest Edmund succumbed to laughter.

"Ahahaha! Sparkly rainbow poop! Hahaha!"

"Really Edmund! That was incredibly juvenile. How could you do that to them?" Try as she might to sound reproachful Hermione failed to restrain her laughter as well.

The clop of hooves silenced them and quick as a cat Edmund fell into a slight defensive stance. A red roan centaur stepped from the gloom and lightly trod on the snowy clearing.

"Good eve King of Narnia, though one suspects that will fade soon."

"Good eve master centaur." A slight bow of respect accompanied his greeting. "A fair assumption master stargazer," he glanced at the sky, "as the brightness of Mars overshadows disaster."

The centaur seemed startled before a contemplative look crossed his face. "Centaur lore Your Majesty?"

"The best centaurs of long ago taught me well, for just as the sailors look to the sky for guidance so too should the sons of Adam, for Aslan writes many things among the blaze of starlight."

A nod. "Wise for one so seemingly young. Go though, my brethren are upset tonight." A decidedly crooked smile appeared, "Though I must say, the colors suit them."

Hermione snorted, and quickly brought a hand to her mouth in mortification. Quickly she and Edmund ran towards the castle, warm afternoon sunlight reflecting on the snowy landscape. Later after all was said and done, whenever centaurs were mentioned both Hermione and Edmund broke into hysterical laughter and mutters of sparkling rainbow poop, confusing anyone ignorant of their adventure.

* * *

**December 15th, 1995 - The Third Corridor**

"Omph! Sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going, are you alright? That was quite a nasty fall." Edmund quickly stopped in his tracks and squatted next to the fallen student.

"S-sorry, yo-your H-higness." The voice was a nice baritone but timid and shaky with fear.

"Oh come now, call me Edmund, I'm not the ruler of this land and we're both students here. Well," He sat back on his heels for a minute, "I guess technically I'm not a student since classes are practically useless to me as my magic manifests differently, but," here he smiled roguishly, green eyes glinting, "that's a mere technicality."

He held his hand out to the younger boy, "May I ask your name?"

Startled the younger blond boy shook it and answered automatically, "Neville Longbottom, your-" he quickly changed tacts at the intimidating look leveled at him, "ah, Edmund."

"A pleasure Neville. Would you care to walk with me, I find myself woefully low on chatting partners." He shrugged nonchalantly, "I can't imagine why though…"

Neville stared at the nineteen year old in disbelief even as they started strolling down the cheerily torchlit corridor. "You-You're kidding right? After your display with the dragon everyone's terrified of you."

"Well, except you." A blank look greeted his words and Edmund continued, "You are talking to me after all. Which I'm obliged to point out, is more than all those fearful idiots do combined." Neville jumped, realizing that the brunet was right, and that his fear of the older teen had evaporated somewhere along the walk through the corridors.

"A personal question if you don't mind?" Neville nodded his assent, "Are you a clumsy fellow by nature?"

"Yes." The response was low and muttered with shame, dark blue eyes cast towards the floor as if it were the most novel being imaginable. Edmund casually slung an arm around the younger teen's shoulder ignoring his jump of surprise and began to speak.

"Did you know I was terribly clumsy as a child as well? No? You should have seen some of the messes I got myself into. There was one time when I was around eight or nine and I had decided to bake cookies as a present for my mom. Everything was going perfectly until I tripped over a chair. I had been carrying the bag of flour when I tripped, so predictably I threw it and flour went everywhere, like a blanket of snow!" A snort of laughter interrupted his story.

Edmund chuckled at the scandalized look on Neville's face as he realized he made such a ridiculous sound. "That's not even the best part! Peter my older brother was walking by at that exact moment and looked like a snowman, there was so much flour stuck to him. He was so angry, the look on his face was priceless, and then he started sneezing up a storm and couldn't stop. Tears and snot combine to run down his face, it was hilarious. Until that is, he managed to dump sugar on me." Here he sheepishly smiled, "Our mum found us bashing each other with flour and sugar slipping across the kitchen floor laughing like crazed monkeys. I dare say the cleaning didn't really punish us, as it was totally worth the effort."

Here he shrugged nonchalantly. "Eventually I grew out of my clumsiness, with the aid of plenty of tips from my mentors." The green-eyed King glanced towards his companion. Truthfully, he had noticed the timid Gryffindor a while ago. He had glimpsed iron in the fourteen year-old's blue eyes, though clouded by self-doubt. He reminded the young king of himself when he was that age.

"Would you mind if I showed you some of their age old wisdom?"

"Really? You'd do that for a complete stranger?"

"Well now, I know your name, you know mine and additional a ridiculous story. I'd say we're well on our way to knowing each other. And don't forget everyone starts off as strangers."

* * *

Poor Neville never knew what hit him when he first crossed training swords with King Edmund. The young man proved he was more agile than a lion and twice as fierce. Even dirty and bruised as he was, Neville smiled from his position on the grassy field. Hope glittered in blue eyes as the boy fervently promised to follow Edmund's instructions.

Clang! Clang! Thud.

The dull clash of wood hitting wood resounding across the cavernous room abruptly shifted to the harsh thwack of wood on flesh. Neville fell to the ground, a palm sized bruise forming on his upper arm. Edmund sheathed his practice sword, stolen from one of the suits of armor and transfigured into wood courtesy of Professor McGonagall. He held out a hand to the young teen laying on the padded floor.

"I think that's enough for today, Neville."

The boy looked up sharply, "No! I can still continue!"

Edmund, a bit taken aback by his enthusiasm, ruffled Neville's blonde locks fondly.

"Don't worry, we can go again tomorrow. Rest is as important and work you know." The young king stretched out on the rug a few meters away wiping his brow with a towel. The room's enchanted fireplace flared to life at his touch. "I'm impressed, actually, with how easily you've picked up the art of swordplay. Sorry about the bruises though, but not much I can do about them."

"It's no big deal, I normally have a few anyway."

"Normally?"

The blonde shrugged, "Clumsy remember? Though it's gotten better since I came to Hogwarts.

"Actually there was a period in my life where I feared I'd never get the chance to walk those halls. My family thought I was a squib for the longest time."

A dark head turned to glance questioningly at his companion, "A squib?"

Neville blushed, "Sorry I forgot you were muggle raised. A squib is a child born from two magical parents but without any magic abilities of their own. My parents were famous Aurors in their time and everyone expected me to measure up to their standards. I didn't even show accidental magic til my Uncle Algie threw me out the third story window and bounced."

Many things about that statement bothered Edmund but for now it seemed like his young friend had more to say.

"My Gran was so excited that she gave me Dad's old wand for school. Here," a dark cherry wood wand was brandished towards Edmund. "She thought I'd live up to his legend I guess." Rueful blue eyes traced the grain in the wood, "but I haven't. I'm the worst student in my year, academically and magically…no matter how hard I try I never seem to be enough." Tears leaked down sweat soaked cheeks.

"Hmm…" Edmund laid back on the floor, green eyes closed. Clearly this had been bothering his young friend for quite awhile.

"A man is still a man even if he holds a sword. He is only a swordsman when the sword becomes an extension of the man. Meaning that anyone can hold a hunk of metal or a twig and use it as a weapon, but only when you've lived with your weapon, forged it in sweat and tears; when it speaks to you from the heart. Only then you can use it with any sense of mastery.

I once knew a boy who forged his sword from the dying rock of a fallen star. From melting the iron to hammering the mold, he created his own sword with his own two hands. Relentlessly he sought instruction from his master, even though he felt inadequate. Together he and his black space sword became one of the greatest swordsman in his land."

The young King stood up handing Neville his fallen sword hilt first. "It's time for dinner but maybe you should find your own wand. I think it'll work better for you and you'll feel more connected with your magic if its attuned to you specifically." A thoughtful look crossed Neville's slightly pudgy features.

* * *

A few days back from the Christmas Holiday's the blonde teen burst into the library jumping on Edmund in excitement, a bright new wand clutched in his fist and practically bursting with news of his successful magic. The beaming and confident smile Neville wore after that was best reward Edmund could receive from his teachings.

* * *

**December 17th, 1994 - Hogwarts Library**

Only the quiet shuffle of turning parchment interrupted the lazy silence engulfing the warm library. Dust motes danced in golden streams of light that cascaded from iron-terraced windows, an illusion of warmth when frigid snow covered the grounds outside.

"Look there, genealogies." The curly hair witch turned towards her companion, "You wanted to know who your parents were right? Since one of them was clearly magical, they should show up in one of these books. Wizards are so obsessed with their blood _status_ ," the word was spoken with heavy disgust, "that they chronicled every bloodline back to Merlin himself.

"Here's your dad, James Charlus Potter. His bloodline is ancient and traceable to the age of Merlin, there might be a knight of Camelot up there somewhere. I never looked that closely, after all, this was only for light reading."

The young man nodded along, eyes skimming the tree.

Hermione continued her monologue, "But your mother, see, she was a muggleborn so not a lot of genealogical information is available though, only two to three generations."

"Evans? Mum's maiden name was Evans, daughter of _William Evans?_ My cousin!? By the mane!" Edmund swore, shocking Hermione when he sat down heavily, head in his hands. Tears of regret leaked down his cheeks, splashing onto the wooden table.

" I truly am related to them after all, even if we are cousins in a sense. Aslan has a bloody sense of humor, to spring this on me. Blood maybe thicker than water afterall." Slowly the young man composed himself.

"I guess this actually doesn't change anything." Hermione glanced quizzically at her friend. He answered her unspoken question quietly.

"A long time ago, when I was young and misguided, I learned that I was adopted. It threw me into internal turmoil, questioning my place in the family and colored my reactions to them. Immediately after that my siblings and I were thrust into Narnia and well…" He paused, the silence heavy with sorrow and regret. "I was confused and hurt, but that doesn't excuse my ghastly behavior. I betrayed them to a horrible and wicked person out of spite and anger. It is something I will always regret for they always were and will forever more be my closest family."

Edmund ran a calloused hand through his rumpled hair and straightened his glasses that had slipped down his nose. "Aslan saved me though, a foolish and mean-spirited boy, even when it hurt him instead. It was then that I learned a wonderful truth; that you determine who your family is no matter if the blood that flows between their veins doesn't match."

He smiled peacefully at Hermione who listened raptly, "I've spilled enough blood to know that wounds stain the same crimson red."

An almost imperceptible gasp echoed in the worn library. A young arrogant blonde bit his lip to silence himself. This so-called King Edmund of Narnia seemed an endless enigma and gave the young heir Draco Malfoy much to ponder. Even if his father hadn't demanded information he would have sought out the boy-who-lived anyway.

* * *

**December 20th, 1994 - Transfiguration Classroom**

Dance practice was intriguing for the Gryffindor upper years. It was a required class due to the upcoming Yule Ball, but no one expected quite the scenario they found themselves in. All attributed to one King Edmund of Narnia.

One by one the young man escorted the young women out to the center of the classroom and taught them some traditional Narnian dances. Some were elegant and stately, reminiscent of swans gliding across water. It was the other companion dance that befuddled the students.

"One! Two! Everyone keep their hands clasped and move to the right." The music, drifting from Edmund's pipes, was bewildering and strange, full of reedy tones and the sound of wind. One almost heard the sound of moonlight and clopping hooves.

"Left foot back! Spin on your heel. Follow the music Ms. Bell, it'll guide you."

It was going splendidly until someone tripped pulling her two companions along with her. They crashed to the ground with a yelp and the others danced into them adding onto a dog pile. The music screeched to a stop as Edmund glanced over at the students in mild amusement.

"May I suggest the lesson ends here today?"

An unladylike snort of laughter quickly followed his announcement. Quick as a flash the bumbling Gryffindor's turned towards their Head of House to see her reaction.

For many of the students these lessons were worthwhile just for the sake of watching Minerva McGonagall's expressive visage. It invariably changed from stern to amused and alternately horrified. Today though they were too slow, and she sternly commanded the students to pick themselves up and head to dinner.

* * *

**December 25th, 1995 - The Yule Ball**

It wasn't much of a ball in Edmund's opinion, though he only had Narnian ones as reference. He huffed a sigh to his dancing companion.

"Not enough people and a dreadful lack of laughter. Though I have to admit the self serving platters are awfully convenient, one could get used to this type of magic."

His companion laughed gaily, her silvery blonde ringlets swirling around her pale face as Edmund twirled her. "The wrackspurts are to blame I suspect. Positive emotions are their favorite snack."

The music stopped and Edmund bowed kissing the back of her hand, "I quite agree Miss Lovegood. My gratitude for accompanying me for this dance."

"Oh it was my pleasure. I'm rather grateful in turn for clearing out the nargle nest in my dorm. None of my things disappear anymore."

He smiled, a touch feral, "Wonderful news."

* * *

Edmund clearly remembered the incident earlier in the week. As he walked from the library heading towards his room he noticed a young blonde clearly searching for something.

"May I be of service Miss?"

She turned around and responded in a dreamy voice, "Why it's the King Edmund the Just. I'd rather like the help, it's those pesky nargles. They went and stole my things again, I wouldn't mind but my mother's earrings have disappeared and I'd very much like to have them back."

Slightly mystified Edmund helped her look. They shared an easy conversation as they worked and Edmund discovered her name was Luna.

Later that evening at dinner he sat across from Hermione and asked about the young Ravenclaw. Hermione frowned looking slightly uncomfortable.

"Well, she's a bit off…Her name is Luna Lovegood but her dorm mates call her Looney Lovegood. I suspect that they are the 'nargles' she talks about." The girl huffed in irritation, "Honestly though, I'm not surprised she's being ostracized, talking about imaginary creatures all the time. She should stick to facts and logic."

Edmund glanced at her, "And you didn't think to help her? Not everyone can be the same. Just like no two apples are identical so are people. It's because there are many personalities and viewpoints that the world revolves."

Ashamed and feeling hurt Hermione began to protest, "But-"

"Just think about it Hermione, and your own experiences with bullies that've you mentioned. But give me the names of her doormates." Green eyes glinted behind his glasses as he smiled predatorily, "I think a should talk with them would be appropriate."

* * *

**January 15th, 1995 - Hogwarts Library**

Ever since that fateful day in the third corridor, Neville Longbottom could quite confidently state that his life had changed for the better. He glanced his raven-haired companion studious buried in a book besides him. Edmund Pevensie, the heralded saviour of the Wizarding World turned his life upside down. No longer quite as clumsy and a blossoming self-confidence were the least of the gifts Neville had received. He was determined to pay the man back in full.

He glanced across the table at the two Ravenclaws who conversed quietly about the merits of a bubble-head charm, blonde and brunette heads tilted together. Never in his life would he suspect that he would have friends, and now he had three!

Resolutely, the young Gryffindor pulled a tome of underwater plants towards himself, the second task was only a month away after all.

* * *

**February 1st - Gryffindor Spare Room**

The hushed silence of the world as a dark indigo sky gradually lightened to pink appealed to Edmund. It was at this hour, just before the blush of dawn, that his mind concentrated best.

Aslan, the young man thought, give me peace and courage today and through the coming perils as well.

Life had been rough for the young King with the passing of mid-winter. It was lonely without his family. Students and even professors avoided the man like the plague, partly due to admiration of the boy-who-lived, but mostly from fear. His unconventional magic frightened them like sheep. It was unknown and therefore dangerous and horrific. Some people saw past their baseless timidity and reached out to Edmund, Hermione and Neville in particular. Edmund smiled fondly at the memories of the two students who he could call true companions.

The brunette drew his crimson wool cover closer around his body. Hogwarts was familiar yet drastically different. Castles were home to him a profound way, yet when he looked over his shoulder expecting a faun or dryad in the midst of a dance, only to see moving pictures attached to the walls. Every half-conscious glimpse of movement burdened his soul in sorrow.

Gold light shifted onto the windowsill, bathing the sitting figure in a wash of diffuse yellow tones.

Warmth seeped into frigid toes and fingers while a sense of contentment settled over Edmund like a blanket. He breathed a sigh of thanks to Aslan for the beautiful sunrise. At least, the young man mused, he had settled on an adequate plan for Professor 'Moody'.

Based on his research and observations the man was most likely using a draught of Polyjuice Potion or very skilled in glamours. At the moment, Edmund had decided not to reveal the man's false identity. Since his year mates praised the Professor as actually _teaching_ them Defense he deemed it unnecessary to interrupt their education prematurely. Hermione in particular waxed poetry about the man's lessons as compared to a stutterer and a fraud. Regardless, Edmund kept a close watch on the summoner, the imposter might have other hidden plans for his master.

That train of thought led the brunet to ponder the second task. He deciphered the riddle easily enough. There was a time limit of an hour and something important to him would be held at the bottom of the lake. It seemed less strenuous than the first task already, but Edmund grimaced wryly, idiotic wizards tended to throw a wrench in any good plan.

"Oh well," he spoke aloud, breaking the post dawn silence, "there's nothing to be done but practice my mermish, research with his friends, and trust in Aslan."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, thank you all for reading this with me. I'm glad you've stuck around so far. Since I've written the entire story I'll be posting a new chapter everyday, so look forward to it!


	6. Joyful Tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the second task commences and we learn about what happened to Susan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello to all my loyal readers! Thank you for waiting for the next installment of my story in the sandbox of C.S Lewis and J.K Rowling. Honestly the positive reactions I've received blows my mind and motivates me, especially since I've only written something that I myself would want to find on this site. So without further posturing: enjoy!

**February 24th, 1995 - Hogwarts Grounds, the Black Lake**

This time it was not only High King Peter who emerged when Edmund called but also a young woman. She stood about a foot shorter than her companions, with long dark blonde curls framing her petite face and blue eyes. She immediately threw herself on Edmund with a cry of joy, "Oh Edmund! It's so wonderful to see you!"

Laughing Edmund twirled her around, her gown fluttering. It was the most cheerful anyone had seen the young king. So happy in fact that the force of the twirl swung both of them onto Peter who was standing nearby. They toppled over the docks and splashed into the shallows.

"Edmund! Its freezing!"

He laughed sheepishly, "Whoops, my bad Lu."

"Humph, really brother of mine, one would say that was planned."

"Who said it wasn't, Peter?" Edmund gave an impish grin.

"If that's how you greet your elders then you shouldn't mind this!" Peter scooped up a shieldful of lake water and dumped over his brother's damp head. Shouting Edmund flailed in the water, splashing Peter in face, who coughed and spluttered, before he grabbed his brother in a headlock, crying, "Insubordination!" Peter turned towards Lucy.

"Sister of mine, what punishment shall we grant for this insubordination?"

"Why not let the Centaurs take him to task over appropriate etiquette?" She laughed at Edmund's horrified face. Peter also horrified turned to his brother, "Run brother, she might really do it!"

"Alright you two, don't forget that Ed here has a challenge to face."

"Correct as always Lucy." Edmund held out his arm for her and Peter put his hand on his shoulder. The cannon had long ago sounded and they were alone in the shallows as the other champions had quickly swam away. They turned to face the middle of the lake, their entire demeanor suddenly changing. Gone was the childlike fun, instead they stood tall, one could imagine them standing on a dais overlooking the world. Such was their presence that the students unconsciously sat straighter and even the youngest felt the increase of magic swirl around the three.

As one they intoned, "Greetings dwellers of the Black Lake, may fresh waters ever grace thy shores. We, the Kings and Queen of Narnia, desire to speak with yon leader of the Mer."

Wind swirled for a few seconds, then bubbles graced the surface of the lake before the green torso a merman arose, crowned with pearls. Gasps echoed among the students and staff as rarely anyone had ever seen one of the Mer before. The Mermish King bowed graciously, extending his arm behind him in a gesture of invitation. The three followed him until they were submerged in the murky waters of the lake. Again the audience sat in stunned silence, who was this guy? He fought dragons, knew centaurs, summoned magical apparitions, and even commanded the Mermish! He was an impossibility!

Below the surface a peculiar conversation occurred, "Forgive us your Majesties, we have lost the ability to speak above the water, but as cousins to the Naiads we are at your service should you require us." His voice rippled and echoed oddly, like a song played on the harp. Only Edmund had needed to take a deep breathe as Lucy and Peter were magical summons, before pushing his magic into his voice, allowing him to breathe and speak underwater. A useful skill he learned from the Weasley twins, but was extremely taxing on his magical reserves.

"It is a pity sir, that the above world can longer enjoy the melodies of the Mer, for we dearly loved to listen." Lucy's voice was soft and sweet, like the carols of bells. "During this Tournament, you were asked to conduct one of the challenges correct? What did you take?"

"Those people decided by the Headmaster and Mistress to be important to the champions are held in a magically induced sleep at the center of our village. It is the task of the champions to find their way through the maze of weeds and creatures to save their loved ones before the time is up."

"Hostages!" Edmund exclaimed bubbles floating from his mouth. He now understood the suspicious absence of Neville who failed to return to the Gryffindor Common Room last night and Hermione's absence from breakfast. Conceivably Neville was his 'most' important person since they spent ample time together during sword lessons. He assumed the judges took Hermione as Krum's hostage since she was his date for Yule and he had noticed a distinct lack of camaraderie among the students of Durmstrang.

"How would you like to proceed my liege?"

Edmund slipped his hand in his pocket and felt the slimy plant twixt his fingertips. Gillyweed, a plant enabling one to breathe and swim underwater through the use of gills. He smirked mischievously, "Those sheeple above desire a show, correct? Why not give them one they will never forget." Identical smirks on his sibling's faces answered his. The mer king quietly shuddered in chilling fear.

* * *

Time passed slowly as the hour whittled away for the champions. Compared to the first task the second one seemed quite boring, especially since the audience spent the time in frosty scottish winter weather unable to see into the murky depths of the Black Lake. Which was aptly named for the dark cloudy waters. Though their boredom was lifted in quite a spectacular fashion around the half hour mark.

Ripples formed smalls waves across the surface and the chattering of the students intensified in excitement.

Tentacles emerged from the depths of the lake. Screams sounded in horror as very few students had ever seen the Giant Squid much less believed it to be friendly. And there cool as a cucumber sat Edmund Pevensie on one curled tentacle with the young Neville Longbottom in his grasp. To his credit young Neville only paled drastically when he woke from his magically induced coma to find himself riding the Giant Squid. Behind Edmund sat Peter and Lucy, wild looks of glee on their faces.

"By the Mane Edmund! This is a fantastic ride! Almost as thrilling as gryffens!"

"I agree with our dear brother, Edmund. You must invite us back to play again!" Lucy's glib comment about play barely registered with the audience before the foursome were deposited on the wooden docks. Only the champion and his hostage dripping wet and shivering in the February air.

It took a few moments for Bagman to compose himself enough to continue his commentary. "Another unbelieve show by Mister Harry Potter! First conversing with the King of the Mermaids himself before arriving first on the back of the Giant Squid!" His voice rose higher and louder in enthusiasm, "I wonder how the other champions will compare to this! Only 15 minutes remaining for them to return!"

Following his words a shark nose burst out of the water, attached to Viktor Krum's body.

"Here comes Mister Krum! Who cleverly used shark transfiguration to retrieve his hostage Miss Granger! Pity he botched the spell, he'll lose points for that."

Meanwhile Krum hastily undid his transfiguration and helped Hermione onto the dock where Madame Pomfrey waited with blankets and heating charms.

"Next at the 55 minute mark we have Mister Diggory! At bit slow perhaps but he successfully used the Bubble Head charm and returned within the time limit with lovely Miss Chang in tow. Quite the dependable performance by our Hogwarts Champion!"

Cedric and Cho joined the group of champions on the dock, raising an eyebrow at the glittering forms of High King Peter and Queen Lucy but refrained from speaking. They waited for the last contestant to appear, Fleur. They didn't need to wait long for in the next few minutes her silvery blonde head to break the surface of the lake.

Fleur managed to drag herself out of the water shivering, aided by two merfolk. Bagmen shouted moments later, "And there is the last champions Miss Delacour! Unfortunately she was unable to save her treasure and sadly since time is almost up she cannot try again."

Immediately the french champion began panicking, "Gabby! What iz goin' to 'appen to 'er? My young'er sist'er iz still down there!" She had barely caught a glimpse of her sister before the grindylow population had dragged her down.

Again Bagman answered, "Not to worry Miss Delacour, your sister will be retrieved momentarily, though it'll have to wait till Headmaster Dumbledore speaks to the Mer. Can't ruin the other champions scores now can we?"

"She iz veela like moi!"

"Veela?!" Edmund exploded in anger on the judges panel, "How could you even _contemplate_ submerging a creature who belongs to fire into a freezing lake! Must less a child! She'll die if we don't get her out now !" Furious, green eyes glowing with anger, Edmund strode into the freezing waters, casting aside the blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

"King of Mer! Hear me now! The young veela girl held beneath thy waters against her will, is under great peril, release her!" His voice boomed across the water, waves rippling outward from the sound. Peter and Lucy stood as sentinels at his back, golden forms shimmering in the frosty air.

Silence. Even the crowd sat speechless at the accusations hurled towards the judges. Though Albus Dumbledore had the decency to look ashamed.

Bubbles broke the surface of the now placid lake. Edmund rushed towards the point and plunged his hands into the lake, lifting a silvery blonde head of hair from the water. Gasps and shocked muttering exploded from the crowd as they saw her small limp form. Dimly Edmund heard Lucy exploding on the Headmasters behind him.

"..marinate in your own idiocy long enough and you become!" Well. Seems she had them handled, she wasn't named the Valiant for nothing.

Edmund dashed towards the dock, scooping up his abandoned blanket and vigorously rubbing the little girl dry.

"Gabby!" Fleur exclaimed rushing forward, tears leaking down her face, and knelt next to her fellow champion. He hurriedly glanced at her, "Cast a heating charm and a drying charm. There's no time to waste she's suffering hypothermia."

Madame Pomfrey hurried over and took command of the situation, ushering Fleur and her parents with her as she carried Gabrielle to the Hospital Wing clutched to her chest for warmth.

Neville turned to Edmund after a moment, who still watched Madame Pomfrey. "Mate, your sister's more terrifying than you."

Chilling emerald eyes glanced his was as a shark-like grin parted his lips, "She's not even the sister I learned it from."

* * *

**February 25th, 1995 - After Dinner, Hospital Wing**

"Why?"

"Pardon, Miss Delacour? You'll have to be more specific."

Fleur swallowed and approached the man who had just entered the Hospital Wing.

"Why did you save ma soeur, excuse-moi, my sist'er? Tu 'ad no reason." The implied, we are enemies, went unsaid as well as the insuations that he was infatuated with the Veela charm.

Edmund glanced at the pale girl now breathing easily on the bed. "A simple reason really; all life is precious." He turned towards the older girl whose blue eyes shimmered with unshed tears and confusion. He sighed, "No one deserves to die for this ridiculous tournament least of all an eight-year-old child. Besides, even though I saved her, it is a bit of a selfish love. I enjoy helping others regardless of who they are."

The brunet glanced again at the girl, cheeks flushed with a healthy pink color. "I came in to check that she was doing alright. That's all. " Lips curved into a gentle smile, "Since it looks like she's recovering well, I'll take my leave."

"Wait!" Fleur lept on the man, surprising Edmund with a quick peck on the cheek and a hug, joyful tears streaming down her face. "Merci. Thank you for ma sist'er."

Quickly Edmund escaped through the door, a slight flush on his cheeks.

* * *

**February 28th, 1995 - The Great Hall, Breakfast**

A simple letter on light blue stationary bordered by a mix of daisies and white tulips sat in his hands, next to his elbow sat a white envelope only inscribed with his name in cursive calligraphy: _Edmund Pevensie, the Just King_. The signature at the end was anything but earth shattering.

_Susan Pevensie_

_The Gentle Queen of Narnia_

Numbly Edmund noticed the vacated seats around as students lefts for class. For a second time he read the letter sent to him.

_My dear brother Ed, February 24th, 1995_

_At last I'm convinced of the truth of your words. Though I must admit it took me ages to come around. I'll tell you a story, just like when we were young._

_The first letter I tore to pieces, furious at the stranger who dared to impersonate my younger brother, especially after almost five decades. You were dead. I' d seen the news article. Then another letter came. That one met the unfortunate demise of burning. But against all expectations, the next week another letter arrived. This time though, I saw a pure white snowy owl fly away from the porch. Odd, I thought, but I put the parchment letter through the wash anyway._

_Every week a letter arrived with the address_ Susan Pevensie, the Gentle Queen of Narnia _. Sometimes multiple times a week. At some point, I'm unsure why or when, I was reading each letter. I thought that whoever wrote those letters did their research, to impersonate you so well! Giants, mermaids and dragons, all from the make-believe game of our childhood._

_Though it wasn't a game, was it Edmund?_

_These letters sowed a seed of doubt in my mind, could it have been real? Narnia, the beavers, Cair Paravel? Even Aslan himself._

_I'm old now Edmund. Approaching eighty years old, I've lived a long life for all my faults. Do you think I can become that Queen again? The one who shot arrows at approaching enemies and spent nights dancing among the satyrs? Would Aslan forgive me for forgetting him? You would know, he forgave you…_

Tears blurred the rest of the text as happiness, grief, and hope blossomed in Edmund's chest. Susan has come home.

Ever since that day in the library where Hermione showed him his family tree, he had noticed that Susan's name had no death date next to it. She was still alive. That very day he had penned a letter and convinced a bright snowy owl to deliver it for him. That was months ago and finally one came back to him.

A hand tapped his shoulder.

"Why are you crying Potter? It's disgraceful and classes are starting soon." Edmund raised his head to see young Draco Malfoy, resplendent in Slytherin green and silver, standing cockily with his gray eyes fixated on him.

"Oh, Malfoy, thank you for the reminder, but I don't believe I'll make it to class today."

"What? Too immersed in grief like a sentimental simpleton?"

Edmund laughed. Unable to hide his amusement his threw back his head and laughed a full belly-laugh that shook his entire frame. Judging by the look on the young teen's face the reaction shocked him, though the young slytherin quickly hid behind a blank facade.

"I might be a sentimental simpleton, but there is such as thing as tears of joy. Someone who was lost has been found." He stood and gathered his books and things, holding the letter to his chest, "I'll be writing a return letter, if you must know. Also I'll be moving to the sixth year classes in a couple weeks to spend time observing their practical wand work." He strode out the door, casting his parting words over his shoulder, "Don't miss me too much once we aren't in class together, Malfoy."

The young blonde Slytherin watched the young man stride away, conflicting emotions and ideas waging war in his mind. Harry Potter, son of a Mudblood, dirty, inferior by rights to like of the Malfoys. Yet the words of the famed boy-who-lived-and-disappeared stuck in his mind.

" _I've spilled enough blood to know that all wounds stain the same crimson red."_

All blood is the same. Those words hinted that magical creatures, half-bloods, mudbloods, purebloods, and -dare he think it?- muggles were the same. Or at least on equal standing, Draco amended his thought. Based on his performance both in the classroom and at the Tasks Draco knew Harry Potter, who called himself Edmund Pevensie, to be dangerous. Highly intelligent to have read the primary textbooks up to sixth year in only a few months. Undoubtedly a skilled warrior in order to trick a dragon with only a metal sword and an undisputed diplomat to command the Mermish Race after only one meeting.

Draco Malfoy had heard the rumors floating around the school. People flocked to the strong, following their ideals. Harry Potter was undeniably strong.

Though his strength was different than the Dark Lord's, a difference Draco was beginning to understand.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore sought solace in a bracing cup of tea. _How on earth did these baffling events always occur at Hogwarts? Just last year the ex-professor of Defense managed to catch an illegal animagus posing as a student's pet. And the year before, a basilisk!_ He shook his old wizened head in a mockery of himself, they had needed the deductive abilities of a few students before even attempting to locate the elusive chamber. He was thankful that none of the injuries were life-threatening.

Periwinkle eyes turned sharply to gaze at the latest baffling event; Harry Potter, the-boy-who-lived-vanished-and-returned.

The young man confused the ancient wizard. He was charming and insightful, free of the normal bias and prejudice found among pureblood families. Yet he was powerful, almost inordinately so. Yet his magic manifested itself mainly wandlessly and in the form of apparitions that could affect reality.

 _Perhaps this was the 'power he knew not'?_ mused the Headmaster of Hogwarts as he drew a long drag of tea before heading off to his office. Paperwork waited for no man, least of all him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohoho! Anyone expecting that letter from Susan? I certainly wasn't til I wrote it. Hope everyone enjoyed this chapter :D


	7. Drums of War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One word: Susan.

**June 24th, 1995 - Quidditch Pitch**

A cluster of people stood at the archway of hedges in the gathering twilight. Dusky beams of red and gold light alternated across the sky, painting an eerie bloody scene as faces were thrown into harsh relief by the slanting rays.

"Oh, how I wish Susan was here, she's quite wonderful at mazes you know." Lucy's plaintive voice sounded right next to Edmund as she shimmered into appearance, a faintly golden mirage.

"We all miss her Lu, but even if she is unable to be here," Peter turned to face his brother, place a fist on his chest, directly above his heart. "You are able to call the others my dear brother, because everyone is already with you."

* * *

"Oh dear me! I hope I didn't miss anything. Twas quite the trek I dare say, to arrive on time."

The Auror stationed at the stadium entrance jumped with a startled curse. She turned and glanced at her new companion in aggravation.

"Excuse me, may I speak to the officer in charge? I would like to know where the family representatives for the champions are seated?"

* * *

King Edmund the Just lifted a hand to his heart, frowning slightly, emerald eyes hidden by his dark hair. _Could it really be that simple? Could Aslan's kingdom lie in_ his _heart? In the human heart?_ Dimly he heard Bagman announcing the order that the champions would enter the maze, according to the points they received from the earlier tasks. Amazingly , he was slated for first even with Karkaroff's biased scores. Bagman also issued a warning that if the contestants lost consciousness they would forfeit their right to compete and would be transported out to the stadium.

"ALBUS! Come quickly!" The panicked shout interrupted Bagmen, who comically sputtered in astonishment. The crowd quieted and a low hullabaloo drifted out from the castle, just beyond the entrance to the Quidditch Pitch.

Only the champions, standing next to their respective headmasters and headmistress heard the low tone of the Minister, Cornelius Fudge, who had come puffing over, two Aurors at his side. "A _muggle_ Albus! Just standing there, unharmed and _looking_ at us!"

"None of our spells seem to have any effect on her, sir." Supplied one Auror, whose dark as burnished copper skin gleamed in the fading evening light.

"Thank you Kingsley, would you be persuaded to lead me over to them? Quite the conundrum on our hands, so it seems. Quite fascinating." One hand stroked his wispy white beard in contemplation as he strode over.

Unabashedly the champions and their Heads edged towards the commotion. A tight feeling of anticipation grew in Edmund's chest. A muggle, they said, who could withstand magical spells. He might just so happen to have an idea of whom was buffuddling the best minds of Britain. At least he hoped he knew. A familiar strident voice washed over his ears, and a brilliant grin split Edmund's face in two.

" - told you! You slow behind the ears, disgraceful, and uppity young bobby! I am a _family_ member to one of the champions. So you will let me through this ridiculous checkpoint!"

The young king edged past Dumbledore silently, his green eyes landing on an elderly woman who stood, arms akimbo, staring down the Auror before her. Even in her anger, Susan Pevensie, the Gentle Queen radiated dignity and authority.

"I'm sorry Ma'am, but I really am unable to let you pass." It was Kingsley Shacklbolt who spoke, "Not without validating your claim with my superior."

"Very well, I'll gladly speak with them and confirm my relationship."

The young trainee sporting eye-catching pink locks scoffed under her breath, "Rip them to pieces more likely."

"Lies!" Abruptly a squat witch in a hideous pink cardigan hollered. Susan immediately rebuked her.

"May tell me, dear-" she looked artfully disdainfully down her nose, "-person would you know mine or my brother's lineages considering you've yet to even speak to the man. Though I hardly blame you, based on your attitude alone, intelligence is not clearly not one of your more numerous talents."

"Dear me Susan, your barbed tongue has lost none of its edge these past forty years. We may be obliged to add another title to your list, Destroyer of Inept Officials-omph!" He was interrupted by a pair of arms wrapping around his torso in an almost choke like squeeze.

"Edmund…" Susan whispered. Tenderly he returned her embrace, noting the frail quality of her bones and the grey streaks that adorned her luscious dark chestnut hair.

"Dear Susan, we are overjoyed to see you return to us." Two other pairs of arms enfolded the couple, as Peter and Lucy welcomed their long lost sister.

Dark brown eyes blinked wetly as the gentle queen lifted her face from her brother's chest, "My time, by necessity was longer than yours, yet I am grateful to be home now." Her hands flew to her mouth in a gasp of surprise as her eyes landed on the two apparitions shimmering gold and glowing in the last beams of daylight.

"Peter? Lucy? My goodness, whatever is going on?"

Quietly Edmund led Susan over to the stand reserved for family members as he filled her in on the gift from Aslan that manifested in his magic. Behind him the Ministry tried and failed to control the situation. Already rumors and whispering fluttered around the crowd, stories of a little old lady browbeating ten officials who was the brother to Harry Edmund whatever Potter. Neville and Hermione chuckled quietly together, unsurprised that Edmund would have such a spitfire for a sister.

* * *

"A word Ed," Susan placed her old hands, worn by work and age, on her youngest brother's shoulders. Gazing into his brilliant green eyes with her dark brown ones she spoke quietly. "Follow Aslan, with your whole mind, your whole strength, and with your whole heart."

KIng Edmund the Just nodded and heard the sound of the cannon, signally his turn to enter the maze.

He glanced up into Susan's eyes, locked eyes with Lucy for a second before firmly gazing into Peter's faintly golden brown eyes. He was a bit shocked by the depth of the love and belief he saw in each of their gazes. Very well, he would call them. _All of them._

He smirked at his audience, a rakish grin lighting up his eyes, he had a tournament to run.

Gasps and cries of astonishment rang out across the Quidditch stands. "Merlin's beard! The fourth champion has continuously surprised us folks! This is quite the magic feat, unlike anything I've seen. It completely boggles the mind." Bagman nearly fell off his seat in astonishment as he provided commentary.

Anxiously he turned to his companion, "Professor Dumbledore could you enlighten us on what kind of magic this is? To be able to summon an army?"

And indeed to the eyes of the spectators there was an army. Glinting gold in the last rays of light as dusk descended into the darkness of night. Already the last two cannons sounded, Krum and Fleur wasted no time on running into the maze, yet the fourth champion remained at the entrance, greeting old friends as if he had all the time in the world. Maybe he did.

Due to complaints about the utter boredom associated with the second task, the Heads of the schools put their heads together and rigged up eight enchanted mirrors, one pair per champion. Four were charmed to follow the contestants as they braved the maze and a companion mirror floated above the maze to allow the audience to fully invest in the entertainment.

* * *

Lilting melodies rang out from the wooden pipes that Lucy handed Edmund. They were oldand worn but much loved, smoothed over time by the countless hands that played it. The young king played a tracking song. The hedges in a certain direction wiggled as if feet danced among their leaves.

Cries of "The dryads answered the call!" "They're here! Huzzah!" burst forth from the glittering crowd of gold.

No longer did a lone champion struggle against the odds, instead a parade transpired through the hedges as if on a night time stroll. Laughter and music spun in lilting aria's among the dancing figures. Upon the mirrors Hermione glismped the golden animals and fauns cavorting in two's and three's while in the fore strode Edmund the Just, truly a King of Narnia.

* * *

Suddenly Edmund's world view tilted and he saw the stars underneath his feet and grass above his head. Screeches of surprise echoed behind him as the spell affected even the magical apparitions. Calmly Edmund took a step forward and the world righted itself. He huffed a breath of relief, "I'm half surprised that worked."

"Really Your Majesty, must you charge ahead at a time like this?" A deep baritone sounded behind his left shoulder. Edmund threw a half apologetic smile at the centaur standing there.

"My apologies Oreius, you have my best interests at heart, that I know." He continued to walk forward guided by the dancing trees, "This is my task to see to the end."

"Surely you cannot doubt our noble King Edmund, he has faced untold dangers and won!" Tittered a slightly squeaky voice.

"Reepicheep!" Lucy exclaimed, blue eyes aglow in the darkness, "How wonderful is it to see you again."

The talking mouse swept a courtly bow, "To you as well, my dear lady." His ears twitched, before he hushed the company, "Danger is afoot, something approaches beyond the south hedge."

As one the company of golden figures spread out, the levity of before now a dream in the wake of anticipatory readiness. Edmund himself hefted a silver blade whose gemstones glitter madly in the soft glow, highlighting an etching deep in the metal.

Outside the maze pandemonium reigned upon the sight of the blade.

"That's the sword of Gryffindor!"

"How did _he_ get-"

"-impossible! I don't believ-"

Bagman once again turned to Dumbledore, who answered readily, "Only someone truly dedicated to the art of chivalry and brave beyond measure could summon that sword in the midst of danger."

"Hpmh," Neville snorted, "Well Edmund surely is that, but he told me that he only asked the Sorting Hat for a true blade fit for battle. Apparently the Hat finds himself a bit lonely, but makes a wonderful conversationalist."

Hermione glanced bemused at Luna who nodded emphatically, "Quite right the king is, quite right."

* * *

Curses and expletives flew out of Edmund's mouth as he rolled quickly to the left, barely dodging the flaming stinger of a Blast-Ended Skwert. He came up swinging, and scored a slice into it's leg which barely fazed the beast.

"Bugger these monsters! Curse Hagrid a thousand times for breeding them!"

"My King, hurry onwards time is swiftly passing. Leave the beast to us!" Oreius commanded. Edmund gave a short nod, before hurrying off, only a few of his friends accompanying him.

Three more turns among the dark hedges brought him to a standstill as he came face to face with a Sphinx. Glorious with her dark golden fur and a crown of raven hair framed a tawny face.

She smiled, revealing sharp canines, "Enter champion for the way past is through me, yet pay heed, for if thy answers foul, I will feast tonight."

Edmund swallowed a little nervously, while Peter thumped his back encouragingly. "It's only a riddle Ed."

"It cannot be seen, cannot be felt,

Cannot be heard, cannot be smelt.

It lies behind stars and underhills,

And empty holes it fills.

It comes first and follows after,

End life, kills laughter."1

Lucy's tinkling laugh burst forth at the sight of Peter's distraught face, who was notorious for skipping literature class back in secondary school. "Just a riddle, Peter?" Edmund nudged his brother in the ribs. His mind already turning over the puzzle.

"Cannot be seen, felt, heard, or smelt. None of the five senses, yet hidden behind the stars." He glanced up at the sky, "All I see is darkness and space." He paused, "..fills holes...comes first; the beginning of time began in the dark…no one laughs in a dark room!"

He turned towards the sphinx, emerald eyes determined as he stared into her feline orbs. "The dark. That is the answer to your riddle."

"Is that truly your answer youngling?" She purred the question seductively. But Edmund refused to hesitate, his siblings confident prescenes at his side.

"Yes, 'the dark' is the answer you seek."

The stately beast smoothly padded to the side of the path, opening the way, her tail languidly curling next to her. "Well done."

"You did it Ed!" Lucy threw her arms around her brother with all the abandon of a child. Together the Kings and Queen of Narnia bowed respectfully to the majestic Sphinx before hurrying on their way to the center of the maze.

The dark green hedges opened up into a circular space, lawn covering a slight slope that led to a stone pedestal. Perched atop the stone column, silver filigree glinting coldly in the faint starlight, sat the Tri-Wizard Cup.

Movement flashed across the clearing, and Edmund glismped the bright yellow of Cedric Diggory's suit. Edmund felt his competitive spirit rear its head, as he smirked in glee. A one on one fight to the cup. _Perfect._

His lithe figure darted across the grass, ducking under a red spell from Cedric, who gave a shout and sprinted forwards. Slight clicking warned Edmund and he swerved only for a spindly leg the size of a tree trunk to bowl him over. He hit the lawn awkwardly with a grunt, his ribs protested the harsh landing.

"Edmund!" He glanced up at Lucy's cry. She and Peter stood defensively between him and the giant spider. It was horrendously ugly, with bulbous grey eyes and a sickeningly yellow venom dripped from pincers the size of axes. Fast and agile, it avoided Peter's sword swings and only Lucy's quick dagger work prevented an attack. Spell fire winked in and out around its grotesque shape. Trust the Hufflepuff to aid his opponent. Consequently alerted by the twinkling lights, the monster launched itself at the most available target; Cedric.

"Cedric on your left!" The warning came a little too late. Only a step from the cup and the pincers caught his arm, lifting him high in the air. Cedric let out a cry of pain, but fumbled to cast a spell and dropped his wand. Undeterred he swung his legs, landing a kick to the spider's eyes. The beast cried in anguish, dropping him.

Suddenly it seemed to Cedric as if Edmund apparated in midair before him. Slicing one leg, then another. Faintly golden apparitions continued to aid their brother, Peter swept through like a hurricane, slashing and stabbing with a vengeance, now that it was distracted by his brother. Lucy crouched next to Cedric, skits kilted up, and extend a hand to lift him up. In the other she clutched a shimmering dagger. It astonished Cedric to see the blood stains slowly dripping from her weapon. She looked barely as old as he was, then he remembered; she was a Queen of Narnia, just as deadly as her brothers.

Emerald glittering with a dangerous light, Edmund jumped backwards, using the pedestal as a springboard to catapult into the monster's face.

Swoosh! Silence fell upon the clearing. The decapitated spider swayed, before toppling over.

"You take the cup."

Cedric's statement surprised Edmund, who turned to face his fellow champion, who looked a little worse for the wear. Dirt and bruises adorned his handsome face and blood sluggishly dripped from various cuts and scratches. Edmund knew he fared little better.

The young king limped over and sat down wearily next to the Hufflepuff.

"It is yours by rights. You won it fair and square when you forewent the prize to aid an opponent. Besides," he ran a hand through his ragged hair grimacing at the sticky stands coated in blood, "Glory doesn't interest me and money is useless on my next great adventure."

"I'd most likely be dead if it weren't for you or your siblings. If anyone deserves to win this tournament it's you Edmund." Cedric disagreed.

Brown eyes stared down green, neither side budging an inch. Cedric sighed, "Besides, there's only you and me left. Both Krum and Fleur lost consciousness and were transported out of the maze."

"Well, " the tall blonde High King spoke slowly as the idea popped into his mind, "You could both take the cup. The officials never said anything about the necessity of only _one_ champion."

Laughter filled the clearing as Edmund snorted with mirth, "That's brilliant Peter! What a way to twist their uptight knickers." He glanced at Cedric questioningly.

A weary smile broke out upon the younger boy's face, "This might be the prank of the year."

In the stands the audience murmured to themselves, unable to hear any of the champions conversation, only able to see the results. They wondered at the seeming camaraderie between the last two champions. Already bets were flying to see who boffed off the other first.

They were unprepared for the two to approach the pedestal together.

Their hands touched the cold metal of the trophy and only a second to feel the swirl of magic before a hard jerk behind the navel twisted them into nothingness. Pop! All the golden lights from the Narnian's went out. Susan jerked upwards, racing to the edge of the stands, dread pooling in icy strands in her stomach. "Something is amiss."

* * *

The hard landing tossed Edmund off his feet and he heard Cedric land heavily next to him. "Did you know the Cup was a Portkey, Edmund?" The chestnut haired champion groaned cradling his left arm, where red blood oozed sluggishly between his fingertips.

Slowly scanning his surrounds Edmund shook his head in denial. Cold and solitary slabs of gravestone loomed in rows around them in the complete darkness only found in the countryside. "I don't believe we're at Hogwarts anymore."

A sudden flash of sickly green torchlight blinded them as it flared to life. A high-pitched voice sounded out of the silence.

"KIll the spare."

Without thinking Edmund lunged sideways, slamming into Cedric and sending them both toppling over. A slight whoosh alerted Edmund to the passage of a spell slightly to his left. Quickly he hissed into Cedric's ear, "Play dead!"

"No!" the young king shouted, rolling over and up into a standing position. Blinking rapidly to clear his flickering vision, he caught sight of a squat man carrying a bundle held tightly to his chest. He slammed into a tombstone as a second spell collided with his chest. Dizzy with magical fatigue and the hard impact to his head, Edmund was unable to resist as a third spell bound him in conjured ropes.

"You killed Cedric! Why?" He snarled in a facade of anger, straining against his bindings.

"Harry Potter." The voice was thin and reedy like a child, but dripping with malice.

"You a fangirl or something? What does it matter what I'm called?"

"Insolent little boy! Just like my servant said. Well no matter, after tonight such impudent cheek will cease. Wormtail begin the ritual."

The man walked closer, stepping into the green torchlight, revealing a balding rat like face. Again Edmund strained to move his body, but even his sword was trapped tightly to the stone. He knew who was trapped in the blankets, a pitiable man whose greed for power destroyed him; Voldemort.

Wormtail lifted his wand and the ground shook beneath a tomb, bones burst forth and landed in a cauldron a few feet away.

"Bones of the father, of unknowingly given, you will renew your son!"

Poisonously blue sparks flew from the cauldron. A breeze stirred the hair on Edmund's cheek, magic rising in an invisible wave.

Boom. A thrum of magic rang outward, unnoticed in its infancy.

"Flesh of the servant, willingly sacrificed, you will re-revive your-your master." Voice trembling, Wormtail drew a silver knife and in one swipe cut off his right hand. It landed with a slight splash, a red glow ominously covered the cauldron.

Boom. A second thrum, slightly more pronounced than the first.

Visibly shaking, the rat man advanced on Edmund. With the same knife he drew a jagged cut on his left forearm and quickly flicked the blood into the potion.

"Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe."

White steam burst forth and blanketed the area in a three foot circle. Wormtail shuffled forward, once again clasping the last remains of his master. He lifted one edge of the blanket, and a mangled white body the size of a toddler fell into the potion.

Boom. This wave of magical energy erupted in noticable ripple, throwing Wormtail aside.

Boom.

Boom...Boom.

Closer together the shockwaves pounded like the beat of a drum, turning golden in color.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

"Stupify!" The rat-like servant went down. Cedric managed to pull himself up to Edmund, and cut the ropes with a swift flick of his wand. "What's happening?" He yelled over the force of the wind.

"Deep magic! My blood belongs to the one who is Good and is protected by his sacrifice. No evil could use me in a ritual and come away unharmed!"

BOOM!

A colossal golden wave of magic flooded the area, blowing up the cauldron and the remains of Voldemort along with it. Far away, a shack bust apart in golden fire; unseen, a goblin vault triggered the fire alarms; unheard, a snake hissed in agony before falling to ash; unnoticed, a house-elf rejoiced among the flickering flames as he fulfilled his master's order at last; unwelcomed, the last remaining artifact of a legendary founder melted into a puddle of silver.

And Edmund Pevensie the Just King of Narnia, who once upon a time answered to the name Harry Potter, slowly leant on his companion as they grabbed the portkey, Wormtail sandwiched between them.

In a golden burst of light they appeared at the winner's podium at Hogwarts. Tired emerald eyes flickered upwards and he smiled at the sight of Susan bearing down on him with all the force of a mother bear.

He could leave it to her, he had done enough. Succumbing to magical exhaustion at last, the world went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhangers; aren't they fun? ;)  
> 1 From J.R.R Tolkien, The Hobbit


	8. Resolved in Golden Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All good things must come to an end.

**June 27th, 1994**

**Hogwarts - Infirmary**

Soft murmuring woke Edmund, though the gentle warmth from his dream lingered in his awareness.

"Looks like someone decided to finally wake up," Green eyes gradually slid open to see a familiar face beaming down at him.

"Susan…" She smiled, and age seemed to lift off her visage, brown eyes crinkling in fondness.

"Morning Edmund, how are you feeling?"

Edmund sat up, observing his various bandages and the distinct lack of acute pain. All that was left was the easily manageable soreness of overextended muscles. He told his sister as much. Susan let out an audible sigh of relief.

"Matronly instincts still going strong I see," Edmund teased her lightly. She giggled, before throwing her arms around her younger brother.

"Oh, Edmund! It's wonderful to see you awake at last!" She pulled back, gripping his shoulders in a firm hand, "You've been asleep in the infirmary for three days, and left me quite the mess to clean up."

"I'm sure you had it well in hand, sister dear."

"Indeed, but remember Edmund, I know much less than you about this whole wizarding business. It's quite different from what I remember about the fallen star magician."

A bandaged nose scrunched in a grimace, "I'd forgotten that. Sorry Su. Moving on though, could you brief me on all the events I've missed?"

"Certainly," the elderly lady moved to sit comfortably on her brother's bed, "You are just lucky I forbade anyone from barging in here, else we'd be swamped with _hypocrites_." Disgust dripped from her voice, as she glared at the wooden infirmary doors. Edmund shot her a quizzical glance, she coughed to compose herself.

"You and Cedric had just barely touched the trophy when you disappeared and...

* * *

**June 24** **th** **, 1994**

**Hogwarts - Quidditch Pitch**

Susan stared out at the suddenly empty screen, white knuckled hands strangling the wooden railing. "Something is very wrong."

Cheers and boos continued to sail around the pitch, but they subsided to murmurs and whispers as the crowd noticed the disappearance of two champions. Quickly, Susan gathered her skirts and flew down the stairs, aiming her flight towards the Hogwarts Headmaster. One her way she glimpsed other officials head in the same direction. She drew close and discovered the British Minister of Magic cowering, while the other Heads of the Schools clustered around. "What has happened Dumbledore?!" Karakoff demanded, eyes bright with unrestrained glee at the current debacle.

"'Ezzactly, Dumbl'dor! Where 'ave those champions gone?"

Dumbledore, meanwhile, ignored their entreaties, eyes fixed on the pitch. His ice blue eyes hard and dangerous behind the half-moon spectacles.

He turned to his compatriots, "Professor McGonagall, please begin to evacuate the students with the other teachers," Quickly the stern deputy marched off, delegated the prefects and older students. In short order she had them marching towards the castle, amid a storm of protests.

"Pardon my intrusion, Headmaster Dumbledore, but I as well would like an explanation of the whereabouts of my brother. If, that is, you have any inkling at all?"

The polite, but adamant tone startled Dumbledore. He turned to his left and saw the petite old lady - _Susan Pevensie, Harry's adopted sister_ \- and frowned. "I do not know," he paused, before glancing back at the dark maze, a mass of shadows in the gloomy night, "and that worries me."

"You do not know? Then the portkey was not planned?"

"Yes, I'm afraid not, Amelia."

"Then who had access to the trophy before its placement in the maze?"

"Any of the teachers, myself included, though it was left to the Defense Professor Alastor Moody to place it." His eyes sharpened to icy needles. "Alastor Moody," he paused, "My old friend has been rather odd of late."

Swiftly Dumbledore scanned the audience searching for his friend. There! He spotted him down by the entrance to the maze, staring intently at a certain section of the mossy grass. He was waiting. But waiting for what?

Without further ado, Dumbledore strode down the lawn to stand next to his colleague, bright yellow robes swirling around his legs, fuchsia stars twinkling in the scant torchlight. The posse of officials following at a curious distance.

"My dear friend Alastor, might I inquire as to what you seem to be waiting for?"

Moody humphed, "Nothing, Dumbledore. Just sensing something amiss," he ended his sentence with a growled, "Constant Vigilance! And all this would have all been avoided."

A phrase caught the aged professor's sharp mind, reading the slight nuances of tone, "'All this', Alastor? What more has happened this night?"

Uneasy silence greeted his inquiry.

"There is something you are keeping from me, my old friend," A wrinkled hand latched on to Moody's wand wrist with a vice-like grip, while the other relieved the man of the flask hanging from his belt, "Though I wonder if I should even call you that."

"Severus," Dumbledore called, eyes trained on the struggling man in his grip, "come take a look at this."

The sallow wizard hurried over, blending into the night with his dark robes. He does resemble a dungeon bat, Susan mused, as she watched the proceedings with a shrewd eye. Deception was high tonight. The least she could do was keep an eye on the proceedings while she awaited her brother's return. For return he would, the truth thrummed in her bones, in time with the beating of her heart.

A quick sniff of the flask revealed its contents, "Polyjuice Potion."

Swift as lightening, a bolt of red light streamed forth and splashed against the Not-Moody's chest. The man immediately slumped to the ground amid gasps of disbelief.

"Well done Auror Tonks," Amelia Bones praised her in a brisk tone. "Now, I believe Dumbledore that this has become a Ministry investigation. If you would leave the imposter with us, the DML, to begin questioning?"

"Most certainly Director Bones, though if I may, I suggest that my Potions Master accompany you. I believe his stock of potions might interest you."

Such cunning, Susan realized with a sly smirk. The potions master was obviously Dumbledore's man and using his stock forced the investigation to remain on Hogwarts property and under the Headmaster's control while keeping him informed about any new information. The Hogwarts Headmaster must be quite the chess player.

"Very well," she glanced at her fellow Aurors and Tonks quickly hoisted the imposter, while Shacklebolt led the way through the lingering crowd up towards the looming castle. "I suggest, Minister, you leave the premise immediately," she forestalled any blubbering by reminding the man that a safe perimeter had yet to be achieved, "Your safety is of the upmost importance Minister. I shall be staying here to remain until Shacklebolt and Tonks return with information, or the missing champions arrive. But you as the Minister of Magic should head, with your assistant, back to the Ministry."

"But-but, what shall I say about the winner, Dumbledore?" The plump wizard whined, the lime green bowler hat twisted and mangled in his pudgy fingers, "The press will be all over this fiasco and down my throat in no time."

"All that needs to be said, is that Hogwarts won. It is true, is it not?" Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled slightly as both Madame Maxine and Karakoff's faces twisted into unbecoming miens of distaste and disappointment. Sensing a clear dismissal, Fudge left without a word. Leaving only the Heads of School, the Director of the DML, and the Gentle Queen to wait.

They did not need to wait long. A golden flash blossomed from the abandoned podium and three figures materialized from the light and collapsed on the ground in a heap of limbs. One in Hufflepuff yellow, another in Gryffindor red, and a third in tattered grey cloaks.

"Edmund!" Susan cried in relief, rushing towards her brother. Despite her age, she was first to the group. Gently turning over the young man, she sighed in relief to see the gentle rise and fall of his chest. A golden whisper of magic caressed her brow. She smiled; everything was alright now. Pandemonium raged around her as accusations and questions split the air, yet she remained the calm in the storm. Carefully she stroked the blood-soaked locks of hair of her dear brother.

Rising with all the dignity of a Queen, Susan Pevensie regarded the chaos with a cool stare.

"That is enough."

Silence dropped and every figure froze, turning their gaze towards the interruption. They were surprised to find, not the venerable old lady, but a wise and self-assured woman in the prime of her life. A vague, transparent circlet rested on her luscious locks, highlighting the dark piercing eyes.

"Quite the disappointment, thou art. For thy oaths seek to protect those under yon charge first and foremost. Lacking I deem thee to be." Though her tone was mild, the words were scathing and drove shame into the hearts of those who heard them.

Queen Susan turned her gaze upon Amelia Bones. "Madame Bones, kindly collect the stranger, I dare say he requires thy services. Now, thy foolish ones, bring thy charges and to the healers we must go." The vision vanished in a blossoming burst of golden dust, revealing the aged lady standing serenely above her brother.

"Shall we depart then?"

* * *

**June 27** **th** **, 1994**

**Hogwarts - Infirmary**

Loud belly-aching laughter burst from Edmund in a glorious tide, washing to all the corners of the hospital ward. Susan smiled depreciatingly, "And then they all followed up here, meek as you please, before heading off to finish their interrogation."

"You bullied them you mean!"

"Edmund Harry Potter Pevensie! I did no such thing, I only persuaded them, that's all," Edmund's laughter continued without fail, and Susan succumbed to chuckles herself. "You should have seen their faces, scared stiff and ashamed the lot of them."

Susan recovered her composure first. Laying a gentle hand on his arm as she continued her tale. "They discovered that Alastor Moody was actually hidden away in his truck the entire year, while that imposter turned out to be some Death Eater named Crouch long presumed to be dead. He was in cahoots with the ratty bastard Pettigrew, the man you brought with you from the graveyard, and Voldemort. Pettigrew and Crouch confessed to everything. The whole Wizarding World is in an uproar over Voldemort's death and the level of corruption in the government."

A slow smile spread across her brother's face, she nodded in understanding. Her brother always did enjoy deposing tyrants. She continued her tale, "Once they heard the news and learned your part in it, they have been calling you The-Man-Who-Saved. Quite horrible title really, but I imagine with magic always at your fingertips you might not be inclined to pursue the more scholarly arts." Susan sniffed with distaste, "If I had not barred the entrance, who knows how many hypocritical and inebriated well-wishers there would be. I dare say you'd drown in them!"

She tugged Edmund into a hug then, desperate to feel his warmth as she buried her face in the hollow of his neck.

"Our work is done, dear brother."

She felt his strong arms wrap around her frail body and felt him nod. "Yes," he breathed, "We have done our part. Now it is up to them to change their world."

The young man began to hum. It was a lilting tune which cavorted and danced like spring blossoms. It was a song of new beginnings and of fragile hope. Magic swirled in invisible eddies around the room, curtains fluttered in the silent wind. He lifted his eyes to the other occupied bed, emerald eyes gazing straight into the depths of Cedric Diggory's amber ones.

"Til we meet again, my friend."

The words were barely a whisper brought upon a breeze. Glaring sunlight streamed into the room. Cedric blinked and they were gone. All that remained were floating motes of golden light, settling on the empty bed.

* * *

**Time Evermore**

**Aslan's Country**

Edmund opened his eyes. Green grass, dotted with magnificent wildflowers, filled his view. He turned to his right, hands clasped together with the slim and dainty ones of his elder sister, and there strode a beautiful lion. Sunlight a wash of gold in his shimmering mane, while deep tawny paws silently walked.

"Well done, Son of Adam and Daughter of Eve. Welcome home at last."

* * *

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, that's it. My story is done. I hope everyone enjoyed the adventure as much as I did. Thanks so much for all the kudos, comments, and bookmarks, they make my day :D

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for giving my story a chance! It means a lot to me. Any comments are appreciated and welcome.


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